


Love Binds, Kindness Delivers, and Hurt Heals

by Diary



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst and Feels, Bechdel Test Pass, Family, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Late Night Conversations, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Fandoms Not Mentioned in Tags, Romance, Tags May Change, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: Repost. AU. A look at vampire Wanda Maximoff,  werecoywolf Pietro, and mutant Angel Salvadore, the challenges they face, and the special people who come into their lives. WIP.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff/Angel Salvadore, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

If Hydra is in California, Wanda Maximoff knows she’s making it easy for them to keep track of her. Ever since Stark’s invisible cloak covered the state of California thirty years ago, vampires have largely taken to joining people in the sun and following human fashions.

She refuses to go out until an hour after sunrise, and the style she fell in love with as a child in Sokovia, she modified it when she was turned and has kept it even now. Primarily black and red colours, leggings with skirts, long sleeves or a jacket when wearing short sleeves, platform boots, the few of her mother’s rings she was able to keep hold of, always a veil of some kind, and often, she carries an umbrella, though, that’s more a case of wanting to always be prepared should it suddenly start raining than using it as a fashion accessory.

A woman dressed like this, especially during the summer, and carrying a suitcase through one of California’s more rural cities at two in the morning, she knows she might as well be carrying a large, bright sign reading **Notice Me**.

It doesn’t matter, she tells herself. A vampire isn’t damned unless they take innocent human life, and she has.

Pietro, though, he’s not damned.

Weaving through an alley, she finds herself looking at the rundown, three-room office.

When she steps inside, a bell rings, and in the dim light of weak, cheap lightbulbs, Bruce Banner looks up from a book. He used to be a doctor, but his medical license was revoked, and her senses don’t know what to make of him. There’s something almost mechanical in how he takes off his glasses. “May I help you?”

In Ukrainian, she says, “I’m Wanda Maximoff.” Digging out her ID, she sets it on his desk. “The password is Spinach, Gamma Radiation, Echo, and Romeo.”

Taking a picture of her license with his phone, he nods. Gesturing, he says, “There’s blood in the cooler, the coffee’s fresh, and I have bottled water in the fridge. You’re welcome to any of it.”

“No, thank you.”

“Then, please, take a seat.”

Placing the suitcase next to the chair, she sits down.

“Tell me why you’re considering retaining my services, Miss Maximoff.”

“Two years ago, Hydra killed our parents and kidnapped my twin brother, Pietro. He’s still alive. Sam Wilson is a friend of one of my neighbours, and he’s told me about your skills. That you can get in-and-out of Hydra facilities and remove prisoners. There’s a sanctuary city a 100 miles from the base he’s being held at. If you can get him there, alive, I’ll go to him.”

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s a werecoywolf. When we were nine, our whole family was separated, and he was attacked. He has curly, caramel-blond hair and brown eyes. Tall and slim. I don’t have any pictures. Before we were captured, he could do a full shift, but I don’t think he can right now.” Seeing the question he’s about to ask, she says, “We share an empathetic bond. That’s how I know he’s still alive.”

He gives her a considering look. “I’m not sure if there’s a right way to ask this, but I need to know. Please, understand I’m not asking to insult you.” He hesitates for a moment. “Do you love your brother, Miss Maximoff?”

Feeling the offence he apparently didn’t attend to cause, she answers, “Yes, of course. I’d die for him, if necessary. Me escaping-”

“I didn’t ask because you’re here and he’s not. I asked, because, you’re a vampire, and he’s a lycanthrope. I’m aware many people of both species are capable of peacefully coexisting, but interspecies relationships beyond casual friendships are still relatively rare between the two.”

“I had scarlet fever when I was nineteen. Sokovia- getting antibiotics there was a joke even for the rich, and it quickly progressed to where I could feel death fast approaching. He couldn’t find an alpha, but he found a vampire. He’s always been better at taking care of me than I have him, but I love him with all my heart. He’s the only family I have left.”

He nods. “Do you have the money?”

Setting the suitcase on the desk, she unlocks it before turning it around. “$2,000 in small bills. They’re clean. And the bank records showing I have the 6,000 is taped to the top.”

He looks around the suitcase. “The earliest I can leave is Friday night, and it could take anywhere from a week to two weeks before I can get your brother to the sanctuary city.”

“I understand.”

“It sounds like we have a deal, then.”

Nodding, she offers her hand.

Shaking it, he begins putting the money in a golden alloy1 safe with a built-in fingerprint scanner.

…

Coming into Fury’s Diner, she says, “I’m sorry I’m late. There was a lot of drone traffic.”

The owner, Nick Fury, asks, “Kids or military?”

“I think police.”

He scowls. “That’s fine, Maximoff. Better you get here safe. I put the new scheduling sheet in my office. Hill can’t work next Friday’s midnight shift, so, if you want the hours, they’re yours.”

“Oh, is she okay?”

“She is, but she’s experiencing family difficulties.”

Based on the murderous look in Fury’s eye, she guesses Maria’s grandmother’s insurance provider is trying yet again to get out of paying for the surgery Mrs Hill needs.

Grabbing an apron, she goes to write down her hours.

When she comes back out, she sees a little girl staring at Fury’s eyepatch.

“My daughter’s severely allergic to peanuts. Please, make sure no peanuts come into contact with her sundae,” the girl’s mother tells Mike Peterson.

“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”

She begins cleaning off tables.

Maria’s putting herself through law school, and she knows, someday, Maria’s going to be a brilliant lawyer. She just prays to God that Mrs Hill will, at least, get to see her granddaughter graduate.

It makes her bones burn to know the ones who are imprisoning Pietro have decent health benefits. For years, Hydra infiltrated American politics, the medical sphere, and insurance companies to try to subtly ensure only certain people got decent treatment, and now, they’re trying even harder to hide themselves, but they’re still out there. Maria is white and America-born, but her brown grandmother is originally from Mexico.

Unlike her granddaughter, she never had any big career dreams. She was a good wife and mother who raised her children and took part-time jobs when money was tight. If she didn’t have her family fighting for her now, she likely would have already died.

Pushing the thoughts away, she starts to head for the kitchen when she sees Mike handing the sundae to the mother.

Setting the dishes down, she runs over, grabs the mother’s arm, and pushes the daughter’s chair away a little with her foot. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” She lets go of the arm. “That has peanuts in it.”

Mike hurries over to Fury’s office, the mother takes a small bite with her spoon, and before it’s even out of her mouth, she looks between her daughter and her (Wanda) in horror. Swallowing, she says, “Thank you so much, miss. Um, would you please-” She practically shoves the dish into her hands.

“Yes, ma’am. If you’ll stick the spoon in, too, I’ll take it and get you some clean silverware after I wash my hands.”

Fury and Mike come over, and Fury says, “Miss Maximoff, please, don’t speak to our chef about this. I will in a minute.”

Trying to control her scowl, she goes to the kitchen. She saw from the ticket Mike was holding that he wrote in careful, clear letters No Peanuts- allergy, but based on the fact the sundae, aside from having peanut butter sauce underneath the chocolate, has peanuts sprinkled underneath, the chef, Garrett, is likely going to claim he thought it said Extra Peanuts.

Fury has made it clear he thinks she’s unfairly critical of Garrett’s mistakes, and he refuses to listen when she tries to point out how often Garrett’s ‘mistakes’ seem to happen most frequently when allergies, food intolerances, and vampire customers are involved. She’s not convinced, if there was a legitimate reason to have wolfs bane around, it wouldn’t ‘accidentally’ end up in or making contact with lycanthrope’s orders, too.

After the clean silverware is delivered, she ignores Garrett’s attempts to chat as she watches him make a new sundae. When he’s done, she immediately gives it to Mike and watches him deliver it to the family.

Going back to cleaning tables, she tries to tune her ears to any other mentions of ‘allergies’, ‘intolerance’, and ‘no garlic’, but she doesn’t hear anything, and no other food is sent back.

At the end of the shift, Mike comes over. “Thanks for what you did earlier.”

“No problem.”

“The customer was incredibly thankful, too. She asked me to make sure you got this.”

She realises she’s looking at a ten dollar bill.

“What? No!” She manages to stop herself from asking what his tip was. If the woman blamed him for Garrett’s preparation- Mike wrote it down correctly, and he’s a human with regular senses. There was nothing to visually tip him off to the fact the dish contained peanuts.

“Go on,” he gently says. “She gave me a 15% tip. But you, you might have literally saved her little one’s life. The last time she accidentally ate something with peanuts, she stopped breathing for three minutes, and it took over a week for her rashes to start fading. Take it, Wanda.”

“Take it, Maximoff,” Fury orders. “Or I’ll start voicing my opinion on what idiotic things have received public funding that should be allocated to-”

She takes the money.

Fury’s never been a lawyer, but he knows enough about the law and politics that it’s no surprise he’s been tutoring Maria. Usually, she finds his rants interesting and helpful, especially due to the fact he saves Latin and big vocabulary words for when he’s talking to Maria, but tonight, she just wants to get home.

…

Sam’s sitting outside when she gets home. “Hey.”

She waves. “Hello. Sorry, Grant wasn’t cooking tonight.”

Grant Ward is Garrett’s trainee, and when he cooks, she’ll usually bring leftovers for Sam. Though Grant is overly-serious to the point she always feels awkward around him, so far, the only time he’s ever made a mistake is when the server didn’t write the order down correctly. He even goes so far as to ask when certain orders come in if allergies, intolerances, or personal beliefs are in play.

“No problem. Did you see Bruce?”

“Yes, thank you.” She sits down beside him. “What is he? He’s not a lycanthrope or vampire, but even with his reading glasses, something about him was inhuman. Is he an Inhuman?”

She suddenly realises she hadn’t even considered this possibility until now.

Smiling slightly, Sam shrugs. “He’s got some inhuman abilities, but when it comes to qualities, as much as he’d sometimes like to be a stoic who needs no one, that isn’t who he is. He helps people, because, he can’t find it in himself to not.”

“He’s just like you, then.”

He laughs. “No. He and I are different in a lot of ways. I try to help people when I can, but mostly, I’m just drawn to people who are naturally like that.”

By now, she’s learned he and her neighbour, Steve, both continually insist they “just try to be good people” when anyone points out all the ways they both go above-and-beyond for others.

“How’s Steve?”

“Good. He should be home soon. The client loves his design, and so far, he’s managed to not get arrested.”

She laughs.

When she first moved in, Steve made her uneasy. Part of it was because he’s a Vaewolf, and part of it was because an ex-Navy Seal-turned-architect seemed as if there should be a contradiction somewhere.

Finding out he’d once been part of SHIELD made her feel as if he were constantly waiting for her to do something worth reporting to them. Then, he’d gotten into a fight with a vampire who’d been trying to break into one of their neighbours’ apartment, and though she agreed the other vampire more than deserved it, she’d assumed Steve had a problem with all vampires, her included.

After he’d let her use his phone when hers wasn’t working (the charger was the problem), she’d made him a quilt as thanks, and now, Steve helps her with home improvements, gives her rides on rainy nights, and the only thing she dreads is when he fusses about her not mixing vegetable juice with her blood. Despite the scientific studies showing vegetable juice mixed with blood does have some minimal health benefits for vampires, she’s never experienced enough of a change to make her put a true effort into making a lasting change to her diet.

“Have you contacted SHIELD?”

“I’m going to after I shower. It’s getting early. Have a good day, Sam.”

“You, too.” He squeezes her hand.

…

Lying in bed, she concentrates.

Feeling the pain of whatever was done to Pietro, she manages not to wince. She knows he’s likely hiding the true extent of his pain, despite the fact letting her feel it would help him some.

Instead of pushing, she concentrates on remembering the details of Bruce Banner: White with wild, brown curls streaked with gray-white and brown eyes. She focuses on his severe glasses, too.

_Soon_ , she promises Pietro. _His name is Bruce Banner. Bruce Banner. Soon, my brother, we will be together._

Tentative hope and love flood back into her.

Closing her eyes, she tells herself the same things, that soon her brother will be with her, will be free.

…

With Pietro hopefully coming soon, she knows she can’t afford to lose her job.

At the same time-

In Fury’s office, she tries to keep her tone level. “He is costing you money.”

“Actually, it was my fault,” Mike says. “I smudged-”

“Even with ‘Vamp.’ smudged, no garlic should have been anywhere near that order.”

“Maximoff, there are vampires who do order garlic.”

“In their milkshakes,” she challenges.

Rubbing his head, Fury sighs. “It could happen. I got a buddy who puts butter on his green beans, and I once had a customer who wouldn’t eat a cheeseburger but would order a glass of milk to go with her burger and cheese-fries.”

“Okay, the butter on green beans strikes me a bit odd, but a hamburger with cheese-fries and milk-”

“She was Jewish.”

“Good for her? The point isn’t judging anyone’s dietary choices, Mister Fury. In fact, part of this is I do suspect Garrett does make and act on judgements and needs to be stopped. But if I were cooking and an order for a milkshake with garlic came in, even if I didn’t know the customer is a vampire, which he did, I would check with the server to make sure there was clear communication. That’s an odd enough request it would simply strike me as common sense. A better safe than sorry situation.”

She has a feeling her words are fumbling, and she hates this.

Besides, she’ll admit, her argument is weak. She doesn’t know how to cook, or more accurately, she’s a terrible cook. Her mother tried to teach her, and she accidentally broke dishes, started fires, and once mixed up sugar with laundry soap. Later on, along with helping her mama sew, it fell on her to find food, root vegetables in areas no one had a proven legal claim to, fruits lying on public ground, and untame animals there were no laws against killing, and the others prepared whatever she managed to bring.

If she could manage to decently cook and made a job out of it, she’d work somewhere that had absolutely no garlic. The first time a vampire hunter shot her with a garlic tipped dart- no, she wouldn’t work anywhere where she ever had to worry about handling garlic.

To her surprise, however, the look Fury gives her is affectionate and almost- proud? Laughing warmly, he says, “Fair enough. Mike, use a different pen. As for Garrett, Ward will be here in fifteen minutes to help him.” He smiles wryly at her. “That good?”

“It is for tonight.”

…

Leaving the office, she cheers up when she sees Natasha Romanov sitting at her usual table.

“You got her,” Mike asks.

“Yes, thank you.”

After getting a glass of water, she goes over. Setting the water down, she says in Russian, “You’ll need to wait fifteen minutes before ordering.”

She wouldn’t have thought Garrett could mess up a salt-free organic Virgin Mary, but then, he added garlic to a chocolate milkshake, and unlike milk shakes, garlic is a common enough ingredient some do ask for it to be added to their Bloody or Virgin Marys.

Giving her a small smile, Natasha nods. “That’s fine. Clint should be here soon. When you have your break, I’d appreciate talking to you about some new cartoon.”

“Happy to,” she says.

Like Steve, Natasha was turned almost one hundred years ago, though, thankfully, unlike him, she was a full-grown adult. She was a Russian spy, and now, she works as a translator for SHIELD. Natasha’s Russian is better than hers will ever be, but she can pick up slang faster than Natasha can.

She continues cleaning tables until Clint Barton and Grant walk in together. The latter heads to the kitchen, and she goes over to the former’s table.

“How ya doing tonight, kid?”

“Good. You?”

“Can’t complain. I’ll have a burger tonight. Unsweet tea.”

“Cheese, ketchup, no lettuce?”

“You got it.”

When she goes into the kitchen, Garrett starts, “Hey-”

Holding her hand up, she orders, “No.” Turning fully to Grant, she asks, “Are there any special orders right now?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then, you will make this one. Wait until the food is almost done to make the salt-free organic Virgin Mary. The customers want their orders at the same time. Garlic is not to come anywhere near either order. The fries, he wants regular salt on them, but be careful not to get any salt near the drink. It’s not an allergy, but-” She pauses.

“I understand,” he says. “I know Miss Romanov is a vampire, and vampires are sometimes sensitive to salt. I promise, her drink will be completely garlic-free with no extra added sodium.”

Setting an order out and ringing the bell, Garrett clears his throat. “Wouldn’t it be better to just make his fries salt-free, then?”

It’s a reasonable question, she’ll admit, but all the same, it only serves to irritate her. “No.”

“I’ll handle it,” Grant says. “Why don’t you go back to the tables, Miss Maximoff?”

“You will take all the special orders you can,” she informs him.

Going back out, she hears Grant explaining Clint and Natasha’s ordering system to Garrett.

…

Soon after Natasha and Clint’s orders come out, Fury comes over to her. “Take your break, Maximoff. Everything’s holding steady right now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Going over, she sits down.

Nearby, Mike asks, “You want anything to drink, Wanda?”

“No, thank you.”

Once he’s gone, Natasha takes out her phone to play a clip.

After they’re done talking about it, Clint asks, “Anything new in your life?”

“I’m hoping my brother will be here soon.”

Until Banner, Sam and Steve were the only ones she’s told about Pietro being captive. Everyone else, they know she has a werecoywolf brother who doesn’t live in America, though, she knows Clint and Natasha might know more about Pietro than they’ve ever said to her.

A large group of people comes in.

“I need to get back to work.”

“Thank you for your help,” Natasha says.

…

Grant hands her a large to-go box. “For your friend.”

“Thank you.”

“John- Garrett’s an excellent chef. He wouldn’t purposefully get an order wrong.”

Something strikes her as not-quite true about his words, and she wonders if he’s noticed Garrett’s prejudices, too, but is determined to ignore them.

“I know he’s very talented at making delicious food. The garlic wouldn’t have killed the customer earlier tonight. But those peanuts and peanut sauce he added to a little human girl’s ice-cream, they could have killed her, Grant.”

She leaves.

…

When she gets home, Steve and Sam have a bed sitting in front of Steve’s door.

“What do you think,” Sam asks.

“It’s- a bed?” They could both fit on it, but if Steve’s king-sized bed isn’t working for him or them, it doesn’t strike her as the best idea to get a significantly smaller one.

“It used to belong to a cousin of Sam’s. It’s been in storage for years, but some polish and paint, and it should be as good as new. The mattress is one I bought years ago and only slept on for about a month. Just needs a good vacuuming. If you think it’d be good for your brother, it’s his.”

Numerous emotions flood her.

She’d hadn’t even- In Sokovia, she and Pietro had shared a bed even into adulthood. At one point, their parents had been talking about saving up to get two cheaper, bigger beds, but everything went to hell. She knows grown siblings don’t share beds in America, especially opposite-sex ones, but during all her shopping and making arrangements, she hadn’t even stopped to think about the fact she only has a twin-sized bed and a couch.

The couch had been Steve’s, too. Sam hated it, and when Steve finally agreed to get a new one, Sam had been making plans to have it dumped at some recycling factory until Steve had suggested she might find it useful.

Sam had happily helped deposit it into her apartment.

Her parents had always given charity when they could and absolutely refused to accept it. She’s not sure, if there were a way for them to get her medicine at a free clinic, they would have accepted it. Pietro, of course, would have picked her up and carried her or led a worker to their house and ignored their protests, but whenever she’s confronted with Steve and Sam trying to help her, her parents’ attitude always floods through her.

“It’s very kind of you to offer, but I’m not sure it would fit in my apartment.”

…

She should have started with a different protest.

Sam and Steve are not the kind of people who will be deterred from being kind to people they deem in need, and someday, she might figure out how to navigate around this without making enemies of them, but for now, Pietro’s new bed she hadn’t even thought about him needing and potentially wanting is sitting in her room.

In addition, Steve might be planning to replace her twin-sized bed with another double.

...

_Wanda._

A week after hiring Banner, at 1:32 p.m., she wakes up.

Sunlight, overwhelming smells, and so much _happiness_ flood through her.

_Free, I’m free. Wanda. Thank you. We’ll see each other soon._

She ends up with her finger and toenails digging into the ceiling when her phone rings.

Carefully lowering herself down to the bed, she answers it. “Hello?”

“Miss Maximoff. I’ve sent some pictures to your phone. Here’s your brother.”

“Wanda!” Rapid Ukrainian greets her, and aside from some pirate radio stations, it’s been so long since she’s heard her native language spoken by others.

It’s been even longer since she heard Pietro’s voice.

…

“Since when do you call during the day? And what do you mean you’re- Look, if you need tonight off, fine, Maria’s coming in, but I need a time-frame for when you’ll be back, Maximoff.”

She almost points out she texted him, and then, he called her, but she recognises this isn’t the point.

“I’m sorry, but my brother is coming home soon. I understand if you need to find someone to replace me permanently.”

Making a frustrated noise, he says, “Dammit, Maximoff, I don’t want to fire you. I just want to know when I can count on you.”

“Not for the rest of the week.”

“Fine. If you still want this job, you’d better call me Monday morning so that we can talk more about how much time you’ll be needing.” He hangs up.

Starting to put the phone back on the charger, she jumps when there’s a knock at the door.

“Wanda? It’s Steve. I’m sorry to bother you during the day, but Miss Hardwick was going on about claws suddenly appearing through her floor?”

Wincing, she smacks her head.

Miss Hardwick has high-functioning dementia, and somehow, she herself is always managing to do things that, though, thankfully, none of her actions have physically harmed the older human woman, they’d make a person with normal mental facilities confused and uneasy.

Grabbing her sunglasses, she pulls the sheet off the bed and over her head, goes over to the door, and standing behind it, opens it slightly. “That was my fault, and I’ll pay for the damage when I get back. Pietro is free. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Sam and I can fix it and your ceiling in no time. Can I come in?”

…

Looking at the pictures, Steve smiles. “His eyes are strong. Do you know how he’s doing emotionally?”

“Right now, he’s happy but overwhelmed. I don’t think much is sinking in.”

“Good. Doc say anything when he contacted you? About payment or anything else?”

“No. He told me about the pictures, and then, he put Pietro on the phone. Pietro said he just vanished. I’ve wired the rest of the money to him.”

“You know, it’ll take several days for them to fully process him, and it might take a few more for them to release him.”

She nods.

“So, uh, how are you planning to get there?”

“Flying.”

“Vampire flying or aeroplane flying?”

“I’ll fly there myself, and then, get an aeroplane ticket for him.”

“Him but not you?”

“I can fly back. If I had to, I’d fly him, but that would be very hard and tiring.”

“Right. Or-”

“No, Steve. Whatever you’re about to offer, no.”

There’s a chance, she knows. Steve is usually good about respecting ‘no’, but Sam- he’s trained to help people who don’t want or don’t believe they need help. When he first met her, he decided she qualified, and she can understand this to an extent, but otherwise, there are times when she can’t understand why they insist on doing so many nice things for her.

She’s not sure if Steve and Sam have a brotherly bond or are lovers, but she does know neither have any sexual interest in her. Neither of them is Hydra.

Sighing, he leans back. “You know, I had a buddy growing up. He was my best friend. No one wanted anything to do with the Vaewolf. Humans hated my ma for having a non-human kid, werewolves thought I didn’t deserve the gift of the bite, and vampires hated me for being living proof of one of their own breaking one of their biggest taboos.”

Taking out his wallet, he hands her a picture. “But this little human boy didn’t care about any of that. He’d drag me into trouble, I’d drag him into trouble. When the government started throwing non-humans into internment camps, he and Howard Stark got me here. His name was Bucky. Captain James Buchanan Barnes.”

The picture’s black-and-white, and it shows two young men, Steve looking shockingly scrawny, and a well-built, dark-haired man with an arm thrown over Steve’s shoulder. He has an easy smile, and his eyes are strong but not hard.

A flash of a little boy with a scabbed knee holding his hand out goes through her mind.

“What happened to him?”

Steve briefly closes his eyes. “We kept working to get others out. Hydra killed him.”

And eventually, they got Stark, too, she knows.

“Look, Wanda. I’m not a vampire, and I know even less what it’s like to be a werecoywolf than I do that. But Hydra’s after me, too, even in this day and age, Vaewolfs aren’t that common or popular, and I was married to a werewolf for 63 wonderful years. I can understand a little of what you and your brother are going to go through, and I can help you.”

“You give too much help.”

“I promise you, I don’t offer more than I’m capable of and willing to give. We all need to help one another. Someday, you’re going to come across someone who needs help. And what you choose to do then, that’s all up to you. Right now, though-” Taking the picture, he presses something into her hand.

It’s two plane tickets. They’ll get her to the city and her and Pietro back here.

…

She thinks Sam and Steve should adopt a child. Even if they’re not romantically together, they’d do a wonderful job co-parenting.

After giving her a thermos of cow’s blood and ranting about how horrible aeroplane coffee is-

(“I’m a vampire. I don’t drink coffee.”

“It bears repeating,” Sam replied. “Don’t let your brother drink any. Get him a soda or tea if he’s looking for caffeine or a warm beverage. He can add sugar or milk or cream to the tea.”)

They offered her a bag with clothes that should probably fit him, but unlike the bed, she did think ahead. She remembers his measurements from Sokovia, and she’d made a few simple outfits she can adjust for size. When winter comes, if there isn’t money to buy him warmer ones, she can make them, too.

They made sure her own suitcase was sufficiently packed. Despite her taking her tablet with her ebooks, Steve gave her some drawing paper and a box of colouring pencils, and Sam looked up the movies and music selection the flights were offering and gave her some suggestions.

Now, she’s getting closer and closer to the city. She’s trying to make sure Pietro doesn’t feel any of anxiety, but she can’t make it go away.

What if something goes wrong? After all this time, is she really going to get to see her brother again? Are they going to have a home again? What if this is somehow a trap, what if Hydra gets one or both of them again?

She’s half-tempted to call Sam, Steve, or someone from the diner, but despite Steve and Sam’s kindness, they aren’t her friends, and neither are the people at the diner. Fury especially might be irritated at her call, and of course, Garrett and Grant aren’t even options.

Closing her eyes, she prays.

...

She arrives at the refugee centre in the afternoon, and the woman processing her views her suspiciously. “You’re having quite a reaction for a vampire who’s been living in California for over a year.”

“I have a night job and do all my shopping and socialising during the night.”

Thankfully, someone else, a young werewolf, soon comes in. “Miss Maximoff? Hi, I’m Sharon Carter, a representative of SHIELD.” She hands the woman a paper. “I’m going to take over your processing.”

Huffing, the other woman leaves.

She has a strange feeling she’s come across Sharon Carter before, but she can’t think of where and when this might have been. It wasn’t from the first time SHIELD processed her, she knows.

“Why don’t you get dressed while I get some coffee? We don’t have any donated blood, but what other kind would help you start healing faster?”

“Some chicken or goat would be good. Thank you.”

Once she’s dressed and sipping some too-cold chicken blood, they sit down.

“You’ve been living in America under our sponsorship for a year and 7 months?”

She nods. “I have a job and an apartment. Most of my coworkers and neighbours like me.”

It’s not a good thing to lie, but maybe, this doesn’t qualify. Mike and Maria have never given any sign of disliking her, and Steve and Sam both genuinely like her. Despite annoying him on occasion, Fury cares about her a little. Garrett- well, if she brings up all the people who’ve gotten their orders wrong when he’s cooking, a clearly prejudicial pattern would emerge. Miss Hardwick- her only defence is she’s never intentionally set out to disrupt the older woman’s life or cause her stress.

“And your brother will be living with you for the time being? Your landlord or lady is okay with this?”

“Yes. The rent will go up, but I can work more shifts until Pietro settles in enough to find a job.”

“Pietro’s indicated a willingness to brush up on his English. It’s advised you keep communication in Ukraine to the minimum until he’s more fluent.”

“I understand. Two of my neighbours, they helped me, and they’ll help him, too.”

She’d been trying to learn from flashcards and a Ukraine-to-English dictionary. Sam had introduced her to movies and music that she quickly learned from, and Steve had gotten her to start teaching him Ukraine.

“I believe Pietro understands this, but do you understand that our sponsorship of both of you only applies to you living in California? Aside from it and America’s five other sanctuary states, you and he have no legal right to be in America, and your legal status to be in them is contingent on our sponsorship? If you have plans to visit or move to one of them, failure to notify SHIELD could result in loss of one or both of your sponsorships?”

Listing the other five states, she answers, “Yes, I understand, and I’m grateful for SHIELD and my neighbours helping me get safely here.”

She’s never done it, but she’s studied enough Google Maps that, there’s a chance, if she ever needs to fly to one of the states through other states, she has a chance of doing it without being caught. On the plane, she flew over several, but the fact they didn’t land made it less-likely for ICE to detain her. Sam and Steve had made her promise several times, if a landing was required before designation, to stay in the airport, to try to stay on the plane if it didn’t land in an airport, and above all, to find a way to contact one of them as soon as possible.

“Good. Pietro’s been given medical clearance to enter U.S. airspace, and due to him being a lycanthrope, the traditional six-month drug testing is waived. However, SHIELD may visit your apartment and/or his place of employment at any time. If he moves, we require notification within two weeks. If he’s arrested for any reason, an appeal to keep his sponsorship will need to be filed immediately, and there is no guarantee it won’t be revoked, even if, unfortunately, he’s innocent of all wrongdoing.”

“I understand. It’s the same for me.”

Agent Carter gives her a sympathetic smile, and she takes in how emotionally tired the agent looks. She wonders if she’s one of the better or worse cases the agent’s had to deal with.

“Any questions, Miss Maximoff?”

She shakes her head.

“Let’s go see your brother, then.”

…

On the outside, the building is relatively big, but inside, there are so many different people, different species, and all of them are sad or resentful or angry or wearily hopeful.

When she first left and found herself in her American apartment, she managed to forget. Now, when she was sitting in the secluded office in the infirmary, she’d managed to forget again.

It’s overwhelming, but through it all, she can feel Pietro nearby, safe and alive. Unbroken.

Then, she’s looking at her brother.

He’s too thin, his haircut is atrocious, he has the same playful eyes, and he’s really here.

“Pietro.” She’s hugging him, he’s hugging her, she feels as if her knees might give out, she hasn’t felt so weak since she was a human, and they’re both babbling, and she doesn’t think she can ever bear to let go.

“Hey.” Smiling, he wipes her eyes and kisses her forehead. “They never broke us, and they never will. It’s so good to finally see you again.”

Taking a deep breath, she nods and tries to smile. “You, too. Oh, uh, English. We need to speak English from now on.”

…

The plane comes tomorrow, and they agree Pietro can share his cot with her.

“One of my neighbours, a friend, is a Vaewolf,” she whispers.

In the darkness, she can see his shocked look. “They still exist?”

“He does. I don’t know about any of the others. His name is Steve Rogers. He and a close friend of his, Sam Wilson, have been helping me since I moved in.”

“Was he born? Bitten? Turned?”

“A vampire turned him when he was only nine. His mother couldn’t bare to see him condemned to such a life, and she found an alpha to bite him.”

“Are either of them interested in you?”

“No. Steve’s a widower, and Sam helps people like us every day. You have a bed at home. We both do. It was Sam’s cousin’s, and Steve helped paint and polish it.”

“It’ll be interesting,” he says. “I had one in- but it was never mine. What else is America like?”

They talk for the rest of the night.

….

It’s still light out, and she’s travelling under a burka and holding one of her umbrellas over herself when Pietro tugs at her arm. “Is that sign for us?”

She has no idea why she’s surprised.

Of course, Steve is waiting in the airport.

“More than an architect, Steve is also an artist.”

“That’s him?”

“Yes.”

The sign is beautiful, and if she can manage to get it away from him, it’s staying in their apartment. Experience has taught her Steve likely doesn’t even realise how beautiful it is, and when she can’t manage to save his non-work works, he carelessly throws them away.

When they get over, he cocks his head. “Wanda?”

“My skin’s peeling off. Pietro, this is Steve Rogers. He knows Ukraine, but only speak it if you absolutely need to. Steve, this is my twin, Pietro.”

“I’m actually a few minutes older.”

“Allegedly,” she mutters. “Mama was in so much pain, and Papa was so worried, they might have made a mistake.”

Smiling, Steve shakes Pietro’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad you’re finally back with your sister. Let’s get you two home, okay?”

He takes her suitcase, and she grabs the sign from him.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. Wanda’s told me about you and Sam Wilson. Thank you for being so kind to her.”

“I just try to be a good neighbour. The van’s over here. Do you-”

“You brought Sam’s work van?”

“Yes. You can start your protesting later, Wanda. Right now, Pietro, do you have allergies? Sam and I want to have you and Wanda over for dinner soon. I make a mean...”

…

“We’re full tomorrow and Friday,” Fury says. “I’m not sure about Saturday, but we could definitely use you on Sunday.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re back home safely, Maximoff. Bring your brother by soon. Some of us can’t wait to meet him.”

“I will. Thank you.”

She hangs up, and seeing Pietro is staring at her DVR, she bites her tongue against any laugher.

Despite what many think, people in Sokovia do know what TVs, computers, and many modern appliances are. That doesn’t mean many of them ever had any of aforementioned items or, in some cases, have even ever seen them.

She had a distinct idea of what a dishwasher was, and when she came across Steve’s, she’d been suspicious. She couldn’t figure out what it was, and when he’d told her, she hadn’t believed him.

Worse, there was a brief time when she thought Garrett kind. Even in Sokovia, she could never figure out how stoves worked, and he’d saved her from burning herself on the restaurant’s.

Fury had been irritable, and in something he must regret now if he had, Garrett had potentially talked him down from firing her.

“Do you know about DVRs?”

Pietro shakes his head. “I never thought we’d see a TV outside of a restaurant. It’s part of it?”

Nodding, she grabs the remote.

1 gold-titanium alloy


	2. Chapter 2

A few days after Pietro is home, a postman wakes her up in the middle of the afternoon.

He has an envelope, and he says, “I can’t deliver this without a signature.”

She refuses to sign.

Steve’s staying on location for another project, but when she hears Sam arriving, she calls him, and he comes over.

“Did you see who it was from?”

“No, and I didn’t think to ask, either.”

“That’s okay. It might be Bruce. He sometimes sends things to former clients. What time does the mail usually get delivered? I’ll see if I can be here for it.”

She doesn’t feel right about this, but if Dr Banner is trying to send her something- it might affect Pietro.

“Thank you,” she says.

…

After she signs for the envelope, Sam opens it. “Oh. Yeah, uh- check your bank account. He’s refunded your 6K.”

“What? Why? Pietro-”

He’s out looking for places with Help Wanted signs.

“Hey, don’t be alarmed.” He smiles. “Sometimes, Bruce does this. I guess he liked something about you or your brother.”

“Did you or Steve have anything to do with this?”

“No. I can honestly say we didn’t. Bruce isn’t a friend. Don’t get me wrong, I like him. He’s been a big help to Steve in the past. But we’re not at a level where either of us would ask him to lower his rate or do a partial refund for someone. This isn’t a normal thing, but he has done it on a few occasions.”

“What do I do?”

“You don’t need to do anything. That night in his office and when he rescued Pietro is probably the last times you and your brother will ever come across him again. Just make sure the money’s fully back in your account.”

...

It seems no one trusts her to be able to make sure her brother has adequate food. Every few nights, Steve has them over, and he always sends several days worth of leftovers with them. Grant has doubled the amount he sends, too, despite her worry Mike might not have enough for his son and Maria for her grandmother, and Sam always makes sure some of them go to Pietro.

The worst part is, eventually, everyone will stop, and she’s not sure she will be able to. She doesn’t eat food, she doesn’t know how to cook, and she doesn’t want Pietro living off TV dinners.

Pietro nudges her with his foot from the couch. “I know how to cook, remember.”

“Stay out of my head.” She tosses a pillow at him.

He tosses it back. “We both know I’m not in your head. I can read your body. The language?”

“Body language.” She tries to smile. “You’re learning English faster than I did.”

Sliding down onto the floor, he links his fingers through hers. “You kept me alive. Do you remember that boy in class who stuck his hand down your skirt?”

“Yes.” She lets out a soft chuckle. “He got what he deserved that day.”

“He did. But I remember, after you kicked him, you were going to let it go. Then, he tried to punch me, and you were like a rabid animal. Until you were turned, you had a scar on your face.”

“Even with what Mama and Papa did, it was worth it,” she says. “He never tried to hurt you or touch another girl again.”

“When we lost Mama and Papa, if I’d lost you, too, I couldn’t go on. But if you lost us all, you could. I’m glad. You shouldn’t be ashamed of being stronger, Wanda.”

“That would be heartlessness, not strength.”

“No, it wouldn’t. If I’d gotten out without you, I couldn’t have survived. Even knowing how to cook, I couldn’t. I knew you’d never leave me. It’d just take time.”

Wrapping an arm around her, he pulls her close. “We’re going to be fine. Once the place I apply to start calling me back, I’ll be able to get an interview, and hopefully, I can do well enough at one that they’ll hire me soon. We can figure out grocery lists like Mama and Papa did, and when others stop feeding me, we can work out when I can start cooking for myself.”

Resting her head against him, she tries to let herself believe.

…

Helping her clean a table, Mike asks, “How’s your brother doing?”

“He’s adjusting pretty well. It’s frustrating for him, though, to apply to so many places and not hear anything. We know it’s probably due to him putting ‘werecoywolf’ down, but-” She shrugs.

If Pietro decides not to, she’ll support him, but she can’t try to convince him not to. Sleeping under beds with a sheet or blanket covering her in whatever homeless shelters would take her, she was at-risk of being deported before Fury finally hired her, and she knew part of the reason was due to her always putting down ‘vampire’ on every application. The people who don’t put down what they are aren’t lying unless they actually claim to be human, but it’s wrong of employers to only give people who might be human opportunities.

“That sucks,” Mike offers. “But,” he gives her a sympathetic look, “it might not all be down to that. A lot of places are cracking down on not hiring legal immigrants. Plenty of them will pay the illegal ones under the table, but they don’t want records of any sort of immigrants associated with their business.”

She sighs. “Wonderful. And yet, everyone goes on about how young men don’t want to work. Pietro and I have been working since we were children, and I’ve complained more than he ever has.”

“I hear ya. I got my first job when I was thirteen. Went into debt putting myself through college, and now, here I am.”

“What were you hoping to do?”

“Engineering. But then, me and my ex had Ace.”

Feeling better, she gives what she hopes is a kind smile.

Mike doesn’t so much as talk about his son and offer to show pictures as he will actively corner certain people with detailed accounts and force pictures under their noses, and after having met Ace, she can understand why his father takes so much pride in him.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t have that.”

It’s his turn to shrug. “Hey, I’m providing for my boy. He’s in a good school, and he won’t be working when he’s thirteen. Whatever he wants to do, if I can manage to help him, then, I don’t have any regrets.”

A crash has her clinging to the ceiling again, and looking backward, she sees there’s a woman on the floor.

She can smell the death approaching, but there’s the faint smell of-

Suddenly, she’s flying, and spotting Dr Banner walking into the market down below, she grabs, and then, they’re at the diner.

He was heavier than any human should be, and she could swear his eyes are green now rather than brown, but pointing to the crowd Mike and Fury are trying to hold back, she demands, “Help her.”

Brown eyes are back, and he makes his way through the crowd. “Wolfs bane poisoning,” he mutters. His eyes scan the room. “I used to be a doctor. I need everyone to move much farther back. Except Miss Maximoff. Miss Maximoff, I need your senses.”

Everyone’s moved further back, and she hears something about an ambulance.

Coming over, she finds Dr Banner has grabbed cutlery and salt. “Can you focus on her heartbeat?”

“Yes. It’s too weak.”

“If there’s any hope, I need to stop it. Listen carefully. I need to know exactly when it does.”

She nods.

One beat, too weak, a long stretch of seconds, two beats, the woman’s face is too pale, even if she were a vampire instead of a werewolf, it’d be too pale, blue is tinging the skin, three beats-

“It stopped.”

Somehow, she’s holding the woman’s wrists down, and oh, thank God, the woman’s alive. She’s feral, she’s kicking so that Dr Banner can’t get close, she’d be doing worse if not for her arms being restrained, there’s so much blood everywhere, but she’s alive.

Bracing herself, she gets the wrists in one hand and catches the woman’s ankles with the other.

Surprise crosses Dr Banner’s face, but then, giving her a slight nod, he comes back over.

Soon, the woman’s unconscious again, and her heart and breathing still aren’t right, but she’s not dying.

“This is all I can do. The doctors and paramedics will be able to do more.”

“Will she live?”

He nods. “Yeah, thanks in part to you, she will.”

“Well, this is a hell of a thing, isn’t it,” she hears.

Fury and Mike pride themselves on being fast, but she’s a vampire.

Pressing her claws deeper into Garrett’s throat, she glares into his eyes. Of course, there’s no guilt, no fear, nothing but cruelly indifferent amusement. The physical pain isn’t too much of a bother; death is not a fear.

More than this, he’s amused by the other’s pleading and Fury’s angry commands. They see a human being attacked by a monster.

“I killed in Sokovia and Johannesburg,” she says. “I am a creature resulting from a devil’s bargain, and she’s a creature made from the black magic of druids. But I hold onto more humanity than you ever had to lose. So does she. The right monster will die tonight.”

“Miss Maximoff, it turns out, I’m going to need further assistance.”

Grasping her wrist, Garrett pulls her claws away enough for him to take gasping breaths. “You heard the doc. You can’t help her if you’re wanted for murder.”

Yanking her hand away, she wipes her fingers on her skirt. “It would have been justice.”

Turning, she goes back over to kneel down next to the woman and Dr Banner.

“I’m not sure how to explain this, but I need you to listen carefully. Do you hear anything like- a click?”

She’s not sure how long she listens, but she does. “Yes. In her back.”

He sighs. “We need to roll her over. It’s best the incision’s made now. Would someone get me some soap and water or some alcohol, please?”

“Do as he says,” Fury commands. “Where in the hell are those mother...”

“Why is an incision needed? What did you do to help her?”

“You coming back,” he asks.

“Mostly,” she answers.

“Wash your hands.”

As they do and he sterilises the cutlery, he says, “She’s been poisoned with an extremely rare form of wolfs bane. How it even got into the US, I don’t know. I made a cut that stopped her heart in order to temporarily halt the spread of it, and then, I plunged a knife covered in salt into said heart.”

He rolls the woman over. “Hold her arms.”

She does.

“That stab let enough of the wolfs bane escape for her to start healing.” He raises the woman’s shirt up. “Have you ever noticed how many of your werewolf customers have their orders with extra-salt?”

“No. We don’t get many here. I do know my brother started wanting salt more after he was bit.”

“Rubbing salt into a shifter’s wound will hurt just as much as a human’s, but when it comes to lycanthrope’s, it has a special purifying effect on their physiological state. Studies have shown salt formed in places of highly visible moonlight forms faster and has less natural impurities.”

He makes a cut, and purple vapour puffs out.

“This wolfs bane is still in her system. Her healing can only do so much. It’s going to take advanced medical care and time for all of it to be completely removed.” He pours salt over the wound, but the woman stays unconscious.

Sirens and Pietro’s barks fill the air.

…

She’d like to focus on the fact Pietro’s finally been able to achieve a full shift after almost three years, but once someone found a blanket for him, Fury’s been ranting at her.

In addition to not being able to focus on her brother, she’s realised she had a chance to talk to Dr Banner about the money but lost it.

“John could have scars, Maximoff! Are you even comprehending how-”

Knocking, Garrett comes in, and she takes pleasure in his hoarse voice. “Hey. Everyone’s cleared out. Better let these two go.”

Coming over from looking at the pictures on Fury’s wall, Pietro puts a hand on her shoulder.

“He’s free to go. Maximoff, look at me.”

She does, and he sighs. “You don’t feel any guilt, do you?”

“No. He-”

“Actually, I’ve got the boys in blue saying I didn’t. Because of you, my kitchen’s going to be overturned, but the husband was caught running with traces of wolfs bane on him and a dark web order with his credit card information has been found. Whatever you want to think of me, Maximoff, I wouldn’t risk myself to poison some random nobody. That wolfs bane can severely, permanently damage human liver and kidneys, and there have been reported human deaths from it.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Fury acidly repeats.

“Nick. She’s cost us business, but not as much as if that werewolf had died. She- well, I doubt she’s roughed up suspected assassins as many times as we have. Let her go. We need to figure out where to go from here. Where she comes in can come after we’ve all gotten into a calmer place.”

Pietro squeezes her hand. “My sister, Wanda, she helped save a woman’s life. America has all these laws about justice, but she made a mistake. She thought he hurt the woman, and so, she hurt him. But from what I understand, she didn’t kill him so that she could keep helping.”

“I didn’t make a mistake,” she quietly says. “Fine, he might not have been responsible this time. But that little human girl, that vampire, that human with the werecoyote date, he intentionally hurt or tried to hurt them. I don’t hurt innocent people.”

Fury’s about to respond, but Garrett stops him. “Let’s call that technically true. I’ve fought in three wars. I’ve killed men, women, and children. Better be careful, though, Miss Maximoff, because, this isn’t Sokovia, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, or some Hydra-controlled country. Not yet, at least. The only thing you have going for you is your skin colour. And right now, a tired veteran with a killer throat ache who, nevertheless, still finds your irritated, self-righteous posturing amusing.”

Pietro grabs her when she starts to rise.

“Go home, Maximoff,” Fury sighs.

…

She still has her job.

Steve drives her to work. Handing her the cookies Pietro made and the blanket they washed, he says, “About Garrett-”

“I’m to stay out of the kitchen whenever he’s in it. I’m not to talk to him unless he talks to me, in which case, I’m required to politely respond. The cookies are for everyone, including him.”

“Good,” Steve says. “That isn’t what I was about to say.”

She looks over.

Letting out a half-chuckle, he shakes his head. “You know, when I was human, I was sick all the time. Asthma and a poor immune system in general. My ma was a nurse. She managed to keep me alive on that front.”

“The thing was, though, I could never stand a bully. Some boy would pick on another boy, aggravate some girl, and there I was, this tiny, wheezing little kid trying to take down someone who, sometimes literally, was more than half my size. It’s a miracle I never died from that.”

“As much as she worried about me, my mother was also proud of me. She was the type who would never stay down. When I became a Vaewolf, I had an advantage, but anything supernatural attacking human kids-” He shrugs.

“What’s the point of this,” she asks.

“The point is, eventually, I got smarter. I never stopped fighting, but I did learn how to do it better. I can’t say I know this Garrett man. If you think he’s attempting to endanger customers, I won’t tell you not to do anything about it. Last week, though, you almost killed a man.”

“When SHIELD granted you sanctuary, it was on the understanding what you did, what kind of life you lived before, didn’t matter. All the bad is wiped away. At the same time, all the good won’t wipe away any bad you do here. As much as possible, you have a clean slate, Wanda. Your brother does, too, and we both know he needs you.”

Smiling with sad eyes, he touches her cheek. “Don’t live in fear. If you believe, if you know, something is right, then, you can’t let anything, including your sponsorship, stop you. But keep in mind there can be consequences. Whatever he did in the past, he didn’t try to kill that woman, and you almost killed him without a second thought.”

Slumping down in her seat, she closes her eyes.

For over a week, she’s been holding onto her righteous anger, but now, she can’t deny Steve’s right.

She wouldn’t feel any guilt over killing Garrett.

Killing him over the evil someone else did would be wrong, and just because she wouldn’t put it past him- she doesn’t know he has ever crossed the line and murdered with cruel deliberation.

“I know it wasn’t completely right. But.” She opens her eyes. “I can’t feel the guilt or shame or remorse Fury wants me to.”

“No one has the right to demand a person feel a certain way. This is something Sam once said, but I think it applies here: ‘Your boss isn’t giving you a clean slate, but he is giving you the opportunity to prove your future behaviour will fall in line with what he expects.’ Staying out of Garrett’s way and keeping the hostility down when you do have to interact sounds like a good place to start to me. How ‘bout you?”

“Yes.” She manages to smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem. Better get in before you’re late.”

…

“Wanda, wake up.”

Cracking her eye open, she mumbles, “It’s eleven in the morning.”

“I go to work tomorrow at seven in the morning.”

Opening both eyes, she sits up. “What?”

Bouncing, Pietro nods. “It’s a taco place. I’m going to work on the fryer.”

She gets her computer. “Let’s find it.”

When they do, she feels hope. Maria’s grandmother loves the food there, and according to Maria, the service has always been good.

“Do you think we should see if Steve or Sam will drive you? Maybe, you can try carpooling with your new coworkers. Grant doesn’t drive, and he usually carpools with Garrett or Mike.”

“No. I like running. Though, speaking of, where does Sam keep his car? It just- disappears sometimes.”

The question confuses her. “What?”

“Where was his car last night?”

“Probably at home,” she answers.

“But this- he and Steve aren’t roommates?”

It suddenly occurs to her why he would think this. After all, when she first moved in, she wasn’t sure if Steve and Sam lived together or not. Steve had told her he lived alone, but with Sam being over all the time and house-sitting when Steve was away for work, she’d wondered if it was one of those _unofficially_ living together situations.

“No. Sam has his own house.”

He considers this. “Do you ever get the feeling they might be- together? I can always smell Sam all over the apartment, including in Steve’s room.”

Trying not to laugh, she answers, “Yes. But it’s not polite in America to ask that. I don’t think it’s as dangerous as in Sokovia, but it’s still impolite.”

A thought occurs to her. “Pietro, have you ever heard of ‘bisexuality’?”

“No. Is it like asexuality where some sea animals don’t need a mate to have babies?”

“No. Steve was once married to a woman, remember, and even if he’s with Sam now, his love for her was very real. It still is. Some of those people we knew about who were committing adultery with one of their own, it wasn’t a case of just trying to hide they liked their own. Some of them, they might have liked both.”

“But he’s different, right? When she was alive, he never would have cheated?”

“I doubt it. The bisexual ones in Sokovia couldn’t really be free, either. What they were hiding was a little different but still something they had to hide. Steve- I can’t imagine him ever using someone’s feelings in such a way, especially not to protect himself.”

“People and their love is confusing,” he declares. “But anyway, I don’t need a ride. It’s nice to run there.”

“Okay, but if you’re tired at the end of your shift, call me, and I’ll see if I can get you.”

…

She desperately wishes Pietro could find a job he likes.

He doesn’t complain much about this one, but she knows he’s beginning to hate it. There are two fryer machines, but half the time, only one of them works. He was furious when one of the managers made him make a large amount of chips, because, he told them there wasn’t enough room in the hot box, but they insisted, and not only did the restaurant end up throwing out a large amount of chips, making them cut into his time of making several foods that customers actually ordered.

As grateful as she’s always been to Fury, she never realised there was a risk of ending up in such working conditions with such people. He always makes sure everything is properly stocked (one day, Pietro had to use extra-large gloves due to there being no medium or large) and the equipment is all working. For all she doesn’t like him listening to _Garrett_ , it’s good he listens to his cooks in general when they tell him things.

Now, it’s late in the afternoon, and from the stray thoughts invading her head, he’s having a nightmare about something happening at the taco place.

It’ll be time for her to go to work soon, and she wonders if she should start learning to tolerate the sun. Fury would allow her to switch to days, she knows, and it’d give her and Pietro more time together and possibly let them sleep for roughly the same amount of time.

Often, Pietro comes in when she’s sleeping, and he’s sleeping when she wakes up to leave. Whenever they both have time off, one or both of them goes back into work tired once the free time is over.

Sighing, she gets up, and going over, she starts to shake him. “Pietro, wake-”

An alpha once clawed her, and this doesn’t hurt as much, but it comes close.

“It’s okay,” she gasps. “Pietro, it’s okay, listen to me, brother.”

Focusing on her breathing, she concentrates on sending calm, and soon enough, she’s kneeling down next to him in the corner. “Come on, don’t you remember how you once threw that-”

Shrugging her hand off his shoulder, he quietly says, “You should clean it. It won’t heal for- It’s not healing right now.”

“Pietro.”

He refuses to look at her.

Managing not to cry, she finds some rubbing alcohol in the bathroom, and pouring it on some toilet paper, she cleans her face. Vaguely, she wonders when and why she ended up with rubbing alcohol.

Studying her reflection, she tries to put together what to say. He didn’t get either of her eyes, thankfully, and he missed her nose, too.

Sensing he’s calmer, though still just as painfully unhappy, she goes back to their room.

When she kneels down, he says, “I did that with them, too. They’d punish me for it.”

“It was their own fault,” she replies. “They tortured you. Of course, you’d have nightmares. How many times did it take for them to realise they shouldn’t touch you during them?”

He shrugs, and for a moment, his easy exasperation and disdain is back. “They quickly learned to either let me sleep, or they used a Taser.”

Then, however, he looks at her with red-rimmed eyes. “I hurt you.”

“I drained you almost dry once,” she retorts. Taking a deep breath, she sits. Scooting next to him as much as possible, she takes his hand. “You had a nightmare, and your body instinctively reacted. I’m fine. Life is a learning process, yes?”

“I made you almost drain me dry.”

“Do you want to start that argument again? We can. I doubt it’ll end anywhere different, but if it’ll make you feel better-”

“It’s not okay I hurt you.”

“I have a scratch on my face. It’s not as if you stabbed me in the heart.”

“And what if my claws had nicked your heart?”

As soon as the words are out, she wishes she could stuff them back in, unheard: “Well, that probably wouldn’t have killed me.”

His look only adds to her feeling of regret and helplessness.

…

Pietro’s sleeping peacefully, but she’s still tempted to call in.

Fury would probably fire her, and Pietro might not have his job much longer. If she suddenly finds herself desperately scrounging for another job, if she’s forced to accept one like his once she does find one-

Mike and Maria are still friendly towards her, and Grant still sends leftovers, but Fury glares if she even steps a foot too close to the kitchen. Last week, he’d yelled at her for ten minutes for coming in three minutes late, and telling him about the drones she’d had to navigate through hadn’t helped.

Unfortunately, _Garrett_ had been the one to get him to stop by reminding him Mike could only clean tables so fast when also taking and delivering orders, and also, the silverware was piling up.

Making sure her hair is covering the scratch, she leaves, and unsurprisingly, Sam’s sitting on Steve’s porch.

“Hey,” he says.

Starting to fly, she quickly says, “Sorry, Sam, I’m in a rush.”

Once she’s taken off, she realises the stupidity of her reaction. Hopefully, he won’t think anything of it, but- she needs to work on what to tell people. Keeping her hair in place all night probably won’t work.

…

Fury gives her a face a considering look. “I don’t get paid enough. Maximoff, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m open for listening. For right now, though, you’re going to need to stay until five thirty.”

“We’re due to hit a midnight rush, and Bob’s called in. We were swapped this morning with Christie and I going it alone with only Wade in the kitchen. I don’t know if that little freckled-faced kid is ever going to call or show up here again. I used to hate those old men that said, ‘Kids in my day,’ but I could swear most teenagers wouldn’t pull half the crap some of the ones nowadays do.”

“Better get to work, then,” she says as cheerfully as she can manage.

Her shift is long, but no one comments on her face or asks any questions.

When Grant gives her leftovers, he looks exhausted. “Is it possible you could do me a favour?”

“Of course,” she answers.

“I might regret this, but the minute I leave the kitchen all alone, something’s bound to happen. John’s on a smoke break, and he needs to read something.” He holds up a letter. “Could you go outside and hand this to him? That’s all you would have to do. You don’t need to say anything. He’ll recognise it and take it. Just hand it to him and walk away.”

“I can do that,” she quietly says.

“Oh, damn it, if those fries are burning-” Handing her the envelope, he hurries back inside the kitchen.

She takes a deep breath.

What if he doesn’t take it? What if he insists on trying to engage her in conversation?

It’s getting early, and she needs to try to be home before sunrise.

Walking outside, she finds Garrett smoking, and when he wordlessly takes the enevlope, she lets herself hope.

“Hey, whoa, wait a minute,” and his hand is on her arm. “What happened to your face, kid?”

Managing to keep her physical reaction to simply shaking him off, she makes the mistake of turning back around, and he’s looking at her with curiosity and what she’d label concern or worry in another person.

“It’s none of your business.”

“It looks like a werewolf made it. Like maybe your little brother.”

“Pietro isn’t a werewolf, and we’re twins. Allegedly, he’s a few minutes older, but Mama had such a hard delivery, she, Papa, the midwife, doctor, and nurses could have made a mistake.”

 _Fly away, now!_ goes through her head.

“Yeah, that’s right, isn’t it? What exactly is he again? He had that odd-looking dog shift when he came running in here that night that werewolf got sick.”

“She was poisoned, and not that this is any of your business, either, but Pietro is a werecoywolf. His shift is very handsome and strong.”

Though, admittedly, Garrett’s confusion is justified. Most werecoywolves who can do a full shift either end up looking like a wolf or a coyote. Pietro looks more like a dog than either, but even his dog-like shape isn’t particularly common. He looks somewhere between a cross of a German Shepherd and a Husky.

Garrett chuckles. “You two are certainly close, aren’t you?”

Her irritation wins out. “You’re not the first or last to make such insinuations. Even when we were still children, some people felt the need to make comments about our closeness. Yes, we’re close. We’re one another’s best friends.”

“However, he and I took baths together as children. We slept in the same bed. We still share a room, mostly, because, there’s only one bedroom, and having a bed in the living area would be- odd.”

“Do people really find it easy to believe that I could or would want to do anything so- with him? I didn’t see baby pictures of him naked or even see him running around without clothes on a few times as a child. I saw him naked every single day for years when we were children. I’ve seen him naked a few times since we’ve grown, and I’m sure he might make some woman happy someday, but part of her doesn’t remember him as the naked child.”

“And why do people assume such a thing of him? I started bleeding early, when I was ten, and even more than Mama, he helped me through that. There’s a big difference between a supportive boyfriend or husband buying feminine products and what he did for me.”

Well, _that_ was a mistake settles through her as the anger drains away.

Worse, Garrett looks thoughtful rather than angry or amused.

“Sounds like the Westermarck effect has done it’s job.”

The anger would be preferable to the confusion and vague fear she’s about to look the idiot. “Do what?”

“It’s a psychological theory. When siblings don’t grow up together and meet as adults, they often find themselves attracted to one another. But when people around the same age grow up in the same house, even if they aren’t biologically related, they usually won’t feel any attraction to one another.”

“I don’t know about siblings who don’t grow up together, but the other- that’s not a theory. It’s a fact. There are-” The word she’s thinking of is ‘anomalies’, but she’s not sure how to say it in English. “There are people who willingly commit the sin of incest, but they’re rare.”

“The world of psychology is a fascinating place. Some would say it’s made up of nothing but theories, and well, that wouldn’t exactly be wrong.”

Heaven help her, some part of her is interested in hearing more.

Instead, she says, “Regardless, my face isn’t your business.”

“Fair enough. There’s a drugstore on the right about two miles from here. Any of the pharmacists will tell you that bat saliva will help your face heal faster.”

…

Pietro is sitting on the porch with Sam when she comes home.

“Does anyone ever look after your own home?”

Giving a half-smile, Sam responds, “I don’t have anything valuable at my house like Steve does here. Found this boy running around the block on all fours but not with paws.”

“Everything is fine. I brought food and bat saliva. It’s supposed to help me heal faster.”

“Everything isn’t fine,” Pietro quietly says. “Those Hydra people, they got what they deserved. I don’t want to hurt innocent people, especially my sister.”

“It alright if I come talk to y’all inside? The sun’s about to rise.”

…

The place Sam holds counselling sessions at also has other people who offer free support for non-veterans, and Pietro starts going there occasionally.

She hopes it’s helping. If he’s having bad dreams, he’s found a way to hide it from her, but she prays the dreams have simply stopped.

He’s quieter than usual, and his normal energy seems to be sapped.

One night, they’re watching TV when he pauses it. Looking up from the floor, he sets his pizza aside. “What if I were like that criminal?”

“Aside from the fact you’d never rape anyone or kill a pregnant woman, why would you kill a pregnant guard to keep the fact you have a black father secret? Papa wasn’t black, but we both know there’s nothing wrong with people of different colours marrying and having babies together.”

“Right, I meant the criminal from last episode.”

“If you ever came up with such a stupid plan to rob- I’m not even sure what exactly they were robbing, but their plan was stupid. I’d stop you. I’m not even sure why they were robbing whatever they were robbing, but if we needed to plan a big robbery, we’d have more intelligence and common sense than most of these criminals.”

“He was cheating on his girlfriend with a man.”

“You’re a grown man. Papa and Mama taught us right. If you ever cheated, I would be ashamed of you and would hope you’d be ashamed of yourself, but we’ll always be family. I wouldn’t turn you away in such a case.”

After a second of consideration, she says, “Well, I’d try to help you. But if you had children and they needed a place and their mother refused to have you around after you did such a thing, you’d have to find somewhere else to live. They and her would be staying with me.”

Smiling, he nods, but then, it quickly fades. “I mean- I don’t think I’m homosexual.”

Until now, she never would have thought he might be, either.

Moving the pizza, she slides down, and taking his hand, she says, “Pietro, if you do like men, there’s nothing wrong with that. You could still have children and raise them with him. Children do best with two loving parents, but they don’t have to be man and woman.”

“I don’t. But the thing is- I don’t like women, either. I love you, and I like some of the women I work with, but- Do you remember when you had that crush on that-”

“Don’t bring that up. You tortured me enough when we were eight.”

“That’s the first time I ever- I could feel what you were feeling. When we were twelve and you got a different crush, I felt it, then, too. And when we were fourteen and you started having those dreams. But I’ve never felt like that on my own. A few times in the shower, I touched myself, and it was- well, stuff happened. It wasn’t like that time when I felt you doing the same. I’ve never wanted anyone like you have.”

She knows they’re both fairly young right now, and she’s not sure how she’d feel once any nieces or nephews grew physically older than her, but part of her has always hoped for him to one day have children.

If this isn’t going to happen, she’ll accept it. She doesn’t know why he might be like this, but it’s important she not make him feel shame.

“This was before Hydra?”

He nods.

“Do you want to feel like that towards others?”

“Most of the time, I don’t even think about it. But when I do, when I see others wanting and loving in such a way- Why am I different? If it wasn’t Hydra, what made me this way? I want me to have children, too, someday, Wanda, but what if I pass this on?”

“Then, we’ll love them the way they are. There’s a night library near the diner. I’ll look at books on human sexuality. They might be able to tell us something.”

The internet is probably not a good idea. When she was trying to learn more about bisexuality, she ended up in an- extremely adult site that really should be doing more than requiring someone to click ‘I’m 18 or older’ in order to access it.

…

Mike had told her immigrants are allowed library cards. He’d said different libraries have different requirements and that, to be safe, she should take two pieces of mail and her state-issued photo ID. If there was a fee, he promised it’d be a small one.

She can tell this librarian doesn’t like her.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t issue you a library card.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t live in this city.”

“I work in Fury’s Diner, two blocks away. You’re closer than the one near my neighbourhood is, and that one is only opened during the day. I work the night shift.”

The librarian gives her a disdainful look. “I’m afraid we can’t make any exceptions.”

“Okay, well, thank you. Could you please tell me where your-”

“We have very reliable anti-theft measures.”

Irritation brews inside, but she absolutely cannot get kicked out of a library, especially not one so near Fury. He’s finally stopped snapping at her all the time.

“I don’t intend to steal any books. This is a public library, meaning anyone can come inside and read, yes?”

“We try to court a certain type of clientele.”

“Get Mrs Paterson, Brad,” a brisk, feminine voice demands.

Turning, she sees a well-dressed pregnant woman with brown hair in a ponytail has come up to the counter. Her blue eyes are warm when she smiles, but as soon as she turns back to the man, they’re icy. “Now, please.”

Sulking, the man leaves.

“I’m sorry about him,” the woman says. “Hopefully, he won’t be around for much longer.”

Another librarian comes up, and she looks wary. “Dr Ross, good evening. What can we do for you tonight?”

“Hello, Mrs Paterson. This woman would like a library card, and,” the briskness returns, “I would advise you to remind your staff that Stark industries is very interested in courting a certain type of clientele in places receiving their funding, too. I’m sorry some of your staff clearly disagrees with their efforts.”

“Of course, Dr Ross. I’ll talk to Brad. Um, how can I help you, Ms-?”

…

Looking at her new library card, she says, “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m Betty Ross. Would you like me to show you around the library?”

“Wanda Maximoff. Yes, that would be nice, thank you. You’re a doctor?”

“I’m not licensed to practise medicine. I was more of a scientist, but now, I teach at St. Meadow’s University. My doctorate is in cellular biology.”

Gesturing to a brightly coloured section of the library filled with toys, a large TV, and places to play video games, Dr Ross says, “This is the children’s section. Children twelve and under can get free hot chocolate, and if you go online, you can see when pizza and other snacks are going to be served.”

“Nothing like the ones in Sokovia,” she comments.

“That’s where you’re from?”

“Yes, my brother and I are. Hydra targeted us.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr Ross quietly says. “Over here is the Young Adult section. Will your brother be getting a card, too? I’d be happy to help if he needed it.”

“Probably not. Pietro doesn’t do well in places where not running around is required. I’m trying to find some books for us, because, he isn’t very good at sitting down to read on the laptop or tablet. He likes to move as he reads. At least, if he drops a book, even if it’s damaged, the fee would be cheaper than if he dropped the tablet. I’d never let him carry around the laptop.”

“They have a fairly large selection of audiobooks here. Does your brother have an MP3 player or IPod?”

“I’m sorry. Audio- books?”

They stop, and Dr Ross nods. “Authors and voice actors are recorded reading books, and people can stream or download the recordings. Some libraries, like this one, loan out both audio and ebooks. Do you know what an ebook is?”

Feeling pathetically grateful, she answers, “Yes, I do. I have them on my tablet. I usually get the free ones offered, but my neighbours have given me gift cards before.”

“You can probably check out ebooks from your tablet.”

“I’ll see if getting a MP3 player or IPod is possible. Do the Starks own this library?”

“No. It and St. Meadows have had a close relationship for almost fifty years. Stark Industries and I have a,” Dr Ross’s fingers go to the heart necklace hanging from her neck, “mutual friend that they’ve helped.”

She feels a pang of pity for Dr Ross. Based on the look in her eyes, this mutual friend was or is someone she dearly loved, and she wonders if this person is the baby’s father. Dr Ross doesn’t have on any rings, she sees.

“When I accepted my position at St. Meadows, their funding increased significantly, and when Miss Potts, Tony Stark’s personal assistant, found out I frequently visited this library, its funding did, too.”

“And Mister Stark has an interest in immigrant vampires getting library cards?” The question is mostly teasing, but she doesn’t know much about Tony Stark. Steve clearly loved Howard Stark, but she doesn’t think she’s ever heard him mention Stark junior.

“Pepper Potts does. I don’t know much about Tony Stark aside from the fact he’s undeniably one of the most brilliant minds on the planet. Despite their funding and the help they’ve personally given me, I don’t agree with some of the things Stark Industries does. Some of the people who work there, however, do want to do good. I know someone who’d disagree, but I’ve always maintained no society can be great without libraries.”

“Speaking of which, this over here is the foreign language section. I’m not sure if they have many Ukrainian books, but they have a decent Russian selection. And they have...”

When they get to what Dr Ross calls “the LGBT” section, she stops the doctor. “This is where the books on human sexuality are?”

“Yes and no. This is the fiction section. It has books with queer themes and characters. The non-fictional books on LGBT subjects is in a different section. Is that what you’re looking for?”

“How do you keep those letters from getting mixed up?”

“Well, personally, I prefer the term ‘QUILTBAG’, but it’s never really caught on.”

“What do they all stand for? The letters?”

“LGBT is Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transsexual or Transgender. QUILTBAG is Queer or Questioning, Undecided, Intersex, Transgender or Transsexual, Bisexual, Asexual or Aromantic, and Gay or Genderqueer.”

“Asexual? But that- something about sea creatures having babies without mates?”

“In the animal kingdom, some species can reproduce asexually. When it comes to humans, it means someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction.”

“That’s the books I need. My brother and I know someone who may be like that, and we want to know more about it.”

“Why don’t I show you how to use the computer to look up what books are ready to be checked out? There are a few I think you and your brother will find helpful.”

…

A few nights after she goes to the library, Pietro says, “This is me. Not Hydra. Not something I did wrong.”

“Yes.” She kisses his forehead. “And you’re still my brother.”

“But am I still the same to other people? Is this something I need to tell them?”

“No, and I don’t know. If you want to tell people, you should, but this isn’t something you owe anyone. Unless you want me to, I won’t tell anyone.”

He smiles. “Thank you, Wanda.”

Smiling back, she links her fingers through his.

…

“All vampire employees, report to the kitchen!” Garrett’s voice booms through the diner.

At Mike’s look, she says, “I swear I haven’t done or said anything to him.”

Sticking his head out of his office, Fury barks, “Maximoff, whatever you need to do in the kitchen, hurry!”

She goes to the kitchen, and Garrett is busy cooking.

“You’re not in trouble,” Grant says. “But there’s something outside we think might belong to you.”

He opens the door, and cautiously, she steps out. Then, she sees Pietro whining with a bleeding paw.

“Oh, Pietro, what happened? Here, stay still, I’ll carry you-”

“Go around front. I don’t care what he is, no furry, four-legged creatures in the kitchen!”

“Here.” Grant holds out a jacket. “I’ll help you. Sorry, but Garrett’s right. We can’t risk his fur or blood getting into the food.”

…

“I still don’t get paid enough for this,” Fury declares. “Just tell me no one let him in the kitchen.”

“No, we came around front,” Grant says.

“Whatever’s going on, Maximoff, you have ten minutes. Then, I absolutely need you back out there. Come on, Ward.”

They leave the office.

Taking off her veil and stuffing it in Pietro’s mouth, she quickly pulls the nail out. “Do you know how much the dry cleaning for Grant’s jacket is going to cost? And if even one order is sent back, Garrett will find a way to blame it on me. What happened?”

Shifting back to human form, he says, “I won a hundred dollars.”

“What? How? And does this have anything to do with the nail?”

He studies the new pictures on the walls. “I was out running when a man named Happy, I think that’s probably a nickname, but that part isn’t important, got a flat tire. I helped him, and then, we got into an argument on which way was the fastest to get where he was going. We made a bet on who could get there first, and I won. But then, when I was exploring, I stepped on the nail. He’s going to give me the hundred dollars tomorrow.”

“You hope,” she says. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun again. Just, please, try to be a little more careful. I’m not sure Garrett wouldn’t have tried to hurt you if Grant wasn’t there.”

…

For the rest of the night, Mike, Fury, and some of the regulars take turns staring at her, and she has no idea why until Grant takes one look at her and asks, “Where’s your veil?”

“Oh, I sent it home with Pietro.”

“Didn’t hear any screams,” Garrett says. “Had to use something to keep him quiet while she yanked the nail out.”

“I left you my jacket.”

“Which had blood on it.”

“I could have turned it so it didn’t, but this conversation does not involve you. I wasn’t going to risk further damage to it. Um, speaking of which,” she holds out the money she got from the diner’s ATM, “I think this should cover the dry cleaning bill. If it doesn’t-”

“I’m not taking your money. It’s a jacket.”

From over by the fryer, Garrett says, “There was a time you’d’ve killed for a jacket.”

Grant nods. “And I wouldn’t have cared if it was bloody or torn. The point is, don’t worry about it, Wanda.”

Steve’s words about being smarter in her battles come to mind.

“Fine.” She lowers her hand. “Could you please get a soda for Pietro? I still haven’t figured out how to make that machine give me the right amount of ice.”

“No problem. What kind, and how much ice does he want?”

Following him, she answers, “He likes to mix Dr Pepper and Root Beer together. He was always a strange child, mixing his food together.”

He chuckles. “Can do. And how much ice?”

“If you can make the machine give a normal amount, that would be good. It always stops working after only giving a little, or it overfills the cup when I try.”

“Fury’s hoping we can start selling bottles and cans soon. Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

Seeing Garrett watching them from the kitchen door, she manages not to roll her eyes. He looks like he knows, and maybe, he saw, but there’s a difference from pickpocketing in order to steal and temporarily removing someone’s wallet without taking anything from it. The first is illegal, and the second- isn’t morally wrong in this instance.

Garrett stops her from following Grant. “In all sincerity: Smooth,” he quietly says.

“I didn’t get myself and my brother to America by never doing regrettable things.”

“It doesn’t seem this is something you consider regretful.”

“People who are good at doing regretful things are, because, they developed skills. Every now and again, those skills can come in handy when it comes to doing good.”

Based on the look on his face, he truly understands, and she doesn’t want him viewing her with any kind of empathy. She’s damned, and he may or may not be, but she’s- the only real difference between damned and saved is that one is forgiven. In many ways, she is a better person than he is.

Grant comes over with the leftovers. “Here you go. Fly safely.”

“Thank you.”

…

“Wanda, wake up.”

She does. “They sent you home early again?”

“That manager is a terrible person. But I may not have to deal with him for much longer.”

“No?” She sits up. “Did somewhere else you applied to call back?”

“Not exactly. Remember how I won that bet with Happy?”

“Yes.”

“He works for Stark Industries, and they’re looking for some new couriers. He’s security, and since they’re low, he’s been making deliveries. He called and offered to set up an interview for me.”

“What exactly does a courier do?”

“They make deliveries, and sometimes, they pick things up. Most of them drive, but Happy said they’re looking for people who can deliver on-foot.”

“Do they send many things?”

“I looked on their website, and it says Stark Industries is constantly sending things to people. Products and legal documents, and they pick things up, too.”

“Do you think you might get tired?”

“No. Even before I was bit, you know how I was always running around. Aside from some of the people, one thing I hate so much about this job is having to stand in one place for hours. In the cell, if I tried to walk around, they usually stopped me. I want to be able to run and walk and move during the day, Wanda.”

“Then, you should interview. But, maybe, as much as you hate it, you should try to keep this job until you get a new one.”

“I will.”

“Steve knew Howard Stark. We could see if he knows anything when we have Sunday dinner with them.”

He nods. “I’ll see if I can schedule the interview for next week.”

She can sense there’s something else. “Pietro?”

“What if they find out what I am?”

“I’m not sure, legally, they can do anything, but- I don’t know,” she admits.

The truth is, in some ways, it strikes her as odd there’s a label for this. Monks and priests and nuns are bound by oaths of celibacy. In Sokovia and America, some people choose to be single, though, in both places, sometimes, they still have sex. She’s still a virgin, and though she’s declined the few times someone’s shown interest and asked her on a date, she does hope, someday, she can find someone special to be with, but she’s never particularly given much in-depth thought to her single status.

Still, having a label has obviously helped him, and she’s glad for this.

Falling back, he sighs. “I’m glad I understand why I’m like this, but in some ways, it was easier when I was just someone who didn’t have a girlfriend. People can usually understand that.”

Lying down beside him, she links her fingers through his. “You should only tell people when you’re ready. I’m not trying to influence you. On the other hand, it’s harder to use something against someone when they own it.”

“Yes, but- Being a werecoywolf and vampire, it’s more- outside? And this is more inside.”

“External and internal,” she says.

“Yes. Even though they were scared, even though they didn’t understand, Mama and Papa didn’t abandon us when I was bitten or you were turned. I think they might expect me to take holy vows if they knew about this, but we can’t know. This could make things harder. Do you know how much the starting salary for a courier at Stark Industries is?”

“No, and it doesn’t matter.” She sits up. “Pietro, right now, we’re free. We’re healthy, we don’t have any children or sick relatives, we can both defend ourselves. More money would be nice, but it’s not something either of us should compromise ourselves over. If Stark Industries doesn’t want you, they’re not the great company so many think they are.”

“And what about Steve and Sam? My bed,” propping himself up, he gestures to it, “is because of them. The art you’ve hung, our couch, more than half the food I eat, it’s all due to them.”

“Remember when you said we’re going to be fine? That we have each other? Now it’s my turn to say it: We’re going to be fine. They’ve done good things for us, been good friends, but we don’t need them. If they stop helping us, we’ll find new ways to live.”

…

“What do you two know about Stark Industries?”

Steve and Sam exchange a look, but before either of them can answer, Pietro pipes up, “I might be interviewing there soon.”

As they tell the story, she notices the other two relax.

“That might be a great job for you,” Steve says. “I know Stark Industries has great health insurance, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the pay was better than where you’re working now.”

“It is,” Pietro confirms.

“Just don’t get involved in anyway with Tony Stark,” Sam says. “The Stark foundation has done a lot for our troops, but there are only two real constants in Stark’s life: His PA, Pepper Potts, the army’s liaison, Lt. Colonel Rhodes. Your friend, Happy, has been around longer than most, but that could change any day.”

Putting some more potatoes on Sam and Pietro’s plates, Steve nods. “Howard was a great man, but we went our separate ways before he had his son. On the surface, he’s a lot like Howard was before he settled down, but- I’m going to quote Howard here. In his own words, ‘I’m a Jew’s son made good.’ He knew struggle. It must have been hard on Mister Stark when Obadiah Stane killed his dad, but otherwise, I’m not sure he’s ever faced any real challenges.”

“Howard Stark was Jewish,” Pietro asks.

“I guess it depends on how you define Jewish,” Steve answers. “His mom was Jewish, and ethnically, that made him one. His parents were both Orthodox, but in all the time I knew him, Howard was never practising. I know he and his wife had their son baptised. She grew up Catholic but became a member of the Church of Christ when she was an adult.”

“If you get the job, you might want to consider starting to save up for a car,” Sam says. “A buddy of mine is a car saleswoman, and she might be able to get you a good deal. Even if someone to deliver on foot is what they want right now, it can’t hurt to be prepared to move up to delivery driver. Steve and I can help you learn to drive. We offered Wanda before.”

“I’ll stick with flying. I don’t trust being able to control such a big machine that could kill people. Speaking of saving up, however, if Pietro gets the job, can one of you take him shopping soon? We’ve found an MP3 Player we think might be good for him to listen to audiobooks on.”

“Sure,” Steve says. “I’m going to be working from home this month. What kind of books are you into, Pietro?”

She can feel Pietro’s resolve is strengthening.

“I haven’t shown you two my new library card. Pietro, why don’t you go get it? I left it by the couch.”

He nods. “Be back soon.”

Once he’s run out, she steels herself. “My brother might be about to tell you something. Do not make him feel bad. Whatever opinions you might have, if you disagree, just say something about America being the land of diversity and change the subject. There’s nothing wrong with him, he doesn’t need to change, and you will be sorry if you hurt him. And if he doesn’t tell you anything, don’t bring up me saying he might.”

Sharing a look, Sam starts to say something, but Pietro comes running back in. “I found it. It was in the laundry basket.”

Taking a sip of blood, she says, “Well, if you’d do the laundry during your week-”

“You have more clothes than I do! I wear my uniform most of the time.”

“Well, if you’d be still more, I’d make you more clothes. And most of the time, even when it’s your week, I end up washing your uniforms for you.”

“Well, if they’d give five or six instead of two-”

“You’d still not do your own laundry.”

“I did it last week.”

“I put a password on the TV to make you, and the next time, I’m going to think of a much harder to guess one.”

“I could put one on your-” He starts.

Sam lets out a chuckle. “As amusing as your little twin squabble is, why don’t you two show us the card?”

They do, and there’s some more talk.

Then, Pietro takes a breath. “I’ve been reading a lot about human sexuality. Wanda really likes historical detective mysteries. She’s almost finished reading Sherlock Holmes, and there’s this series about an Ancient Roman detective.”

“Greek,” she corrects.

“But one of the things I’ve been reading about is asexuality. Do you two know anything about that?”

“Sam knows more than I do. He’s been a big help in getting LGBT soldiers the mental healthcare they need.”

“How do people not get those letters all jumbled up,” she mutters. “I don’t have problems reading, but those letters never look or sound right together.”

“Steve’s been a bigger help than he’ll admit. Progress is slowly being made in the civilian world, but the armed forces can still be an extra-tough place for women and minorities. I haven’t had many experiences with openly asexual people, but I’m sure there are more than anyone knows about.”

“How do you help them? Or how would you,” Pietro asks.

“It’d depend on what kind of help they need. What they’re struggling with. Some people, they just need someone to talk to. Other people have to navigate being in hostile work environments. And some of them, they have mental health issues. There are times when it’s important to take what they are in consideration, and there are times that’s just a neutral aspect of them.”

Steve nods. “Some people can engage in unhealthy sexual behaviours or have their ability to form or maintain relationships compromised by their mental illness. It’s not really Sam’s area of expertise, but people like him are trained to determine if their sexuality puts them at higher risk due to their mental illness.”

“I’m asexual,” Pietro quietly says.

For a moment, she’s not sure if they heard him.

Then, Steve squeezes Pietro’s shoulder, and when Pietro looks up, a smiling Steve gives a small nod.

She should have known better than to threaten Steve, she realises.

Pietro slumps down.

Sam gives her a look, and yes, she was too hasty in her earlier words to both of them.

Well, at least, they still like Pietro.

…

After they finish dinner, they all move to the living room.

“This is the asexual flag.” Steve holds up his drawing. “The black stripe represents asexuality, the grey stripe is for the grey-area between sexual and asexual, the white stripe is sexuality, and the purple stripe is community.”

“Wanda would be purple, then.”

Steve smiles. “Yeah, I guess she would be. On the rainbow flag,” he grabs another paper, “violet is spirit. It only has six, now, but I remember when it had eight.”

He shows it to them.

“Do bisexuals have one?”

Careful, she thinks.

“Them and pansexuals both. Don’t start, Sam. Sam here refuses to believe there’s a real difference between bisexual and pansexual.”

“What is the difference,” she asks.

“Basically, people say there’s a difference,” Sam answers. “To Steve, that’s good enough.”

Shooting him a dirty look, Steve shows them two more flags. “This one’s bisexual, and this one’s pansexual.”

Pietro points. “The pansexual one is nicer.”

“I prefer the bisexual one,” she says.

“Should I tell them at the interview? I don’t want to hide this, but- it’s not their business, and I want this job.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure what advice we can give you,” Sam says. “You have to decide for yourself what to do. They can’t ask, but if you tell, and they decide it’s an issue, you won’t get the job, and you’ll never be able to prove that’s the reason why. If it comes out after you get the job, there’s still a chance they’ll try to get rid of you, but it’ll be harder.”

“If they do ask, though, that’s illegal,” Steve adds. “And you tell us if they do. Remember how I told you when you started getting interviews it might be a good idea to tell the interviewers that you don’t have any family commitments? But that if did they ask, don’t answer, and tell us?”

“Yes. You also told me not to answer if they asked if I had a car.”

“Public transportation is reliable,” Sam says. “Most people applying can access it. That question about reliable transportation is to try to weed out the people who don’t have cars, because, a lack of a car can indicate a lot of things that they want but aren’t allowed to legally to keep out of their business.”

“Look, Pietro,” Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. “People who decide to keep their sexuality private aren’t cowards. There’s nothing morally wrong with them.”

“Me, your sister, Sam, we all hope there’s a day when no one has to struggle like you are. Where it won’t matter if someone says, ‘I’m asexual or gay or anything else besides straight,’ because, people aren’t going to make stupid judgements. Until that day comes, though, you’re going to have to make some tough decisions on your own. All we can do is be here for you.”

“And yell at anyone who hurts you,” she adds.

“Oh, we’ll do more than yell,” Sam says. He glances at Pietro. “You hold your sister back, and I’ll hold this one back when they start to go too far.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve leans back. “Says the one who delivered the man our mutual friend threw off a roof back to her.”

She looks between them. “What? A friend threw someone off a roof?”

“I caught him. And I wasn’t the one who moved aside for her to push him in the first place.”

“Sam, we all heard your commentary while you were catching him.”

Taking a sip of his beer, Sam shrugs. “Gotta respect our girl’s perfect form.”

Steve’s expression is one of, ‘Fair enough,’ before he says, “Uh, yeah, all that was before we settled into the civilian life.”

“I have Wednesday off. I’m going to see if I can get scheduled then. Thursday is laundry day, and Wanda might throw the TV off the roof if I don’t.”

She swats at him.

…

One look at Garrett tells her she should have gone with an actual bakery.

“Yeah, I can make this tonight. Question, though, why does a vampire want a cake? Aren’t you one of those ones that doesn’t eat?”

“It’ll be done by the end of the night, Miss Maximoff.” Grant nudges Garrett.

Holding up the paper, Garrett continues, “Did you draw this design?”

“No. My neighbour did.”

Knocking, Fury comes in. “Good, you’re both here. Ward, while things are settled, make sure there’s enough stuff to make the cake for Maximoff’s brother.”

“I have, sir, and she brought more than enough for the purple frosting.”

“Your brother, huh? It y’alls birthday?”

She tries not to glare, but based on the amused expression on Garrett’s face, she’s failing. “Pietro got a bonus at his job.”

“He’s still working at Stark industries,” Grant asks.

Noticing the look, the three men share, she answers, “Yes. If he had a car, he’d have his own parking space by now.”

“Okay, but half-chocolate, half-vanilla with purple frosting designs? Don’t get me wrong, I love a challenge, but this doesn’t exactly scream ‘congratulations’.”

“He likes vanilla, our neighbours like chocolate, and I like purple.” His favourite is strawberry, but she’s not sure how to get a strawberry cake with white, black, and purple frosting without Garrett asking even more invasive questions.

Garrett pins the design up.

“I’m going to want that back at the end of the night,” she says.

“Maximoff, I need to talk to you for a minute.”

She follows Fury to his office.

“Is your neighbour picking you up tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs. “Is there anyway you can get someone to pick you up? I don’t know all the details, but on the news earlier, there’s a fugitive running around the area. Considered armed and dangerous.”

“A human?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t say. Usually, they’re required to disclose if a suspect or escapee isn’t, but that doesn’t always happen.”

“Thank you for your worry, but I should be fine.”

“Even if this guy’s human, he could still be armed.”

“I’m a vampire.”

“Oh, really? What with the thermos of blood labelled ‘Wanda’ in the hotbox, the fact Maria or Mike has to pick up any dishes with garlic, and you working midnight shift, I never would have guessed. I can’t imagine what I thought I was hiring when I hired the girl who put ‘Vampire’ under species. I know you’re a damn vampire, Maximoff!”

He takes a breath. “That doesn’t mean no human could never get the best of you, especially one who has a gun or a knife. Used right, they could kill you, same as a human.”

“I’ll send a text to see if my neighbour can pick me up, but if not, I’m fine going home alone. Yes, a human could kill me under the right circumstances, but unless they can somehow fly up high into the sky, I should be safe.”

Fury’s nod is unhappy.

…

Near the end of her shift, Natasha and Clint come in.

They’re excited to hear about Pietro’s bonus, and they ask to see the cake.

“Looks delicious. You got a ride tonight, kid? Even with it covered, it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to fly with it.”

Before she can answer, Fury comes over. “If you’re offering, I’m accepting on her behalf. There’s a fugitive out there, and-”

“You can’t accept such things for me. I told you, I’d text my neighbour, and I did.”

“And has your neighbour texted you back?”

As long as Fury doesn’t see the texts she sent, he won’t be furious enough to fire her.

She had sent the first one in Russian, and the second one implied the first one was just telling him about the cake.

“Yes.”

He narrows his eye at her.

Then, Garrett comes over. “What she paid for the cake can cover Grant taking off to-”

“Why does no one worry about human Mike getting a ride home?”

Walking past, Mike answers, “Human Mike has a car. And if it weren’t for me needing to be home by six on the dot, I’d offer you a ride myself.”

“We’d be happy to give you a ride,” Natasha says. “I have a new novel with some passages I’d appreciate you taking a look at.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be a problem, kiddo. You really don’t want to risk that cake.”

“If you’d like a slice-”

“Nah. Thanks, but eggs and I don’t really get along. Unless I’m cooking for my niece and nephews, I avoid them.”

Of course, say this in front of Garrett, she thinks in irritation.

Now, every time he and Natasha come in, she’s going to have to try to monitor their orders even more.

“A ride would be lovely, thank you.”

…

She’s dozing on the couch when she hears, “Breaking news.”

“Ah,” Pietro says. “I wanted to know if Madison is really dead.”

She sits up. “Of course, she is. Her actress is a series regular on a new show.”

“But that one playing Dr Spencer is also on that new Beauty and Beast show.”

Thankfully, _that_ show has been cancelled.

“Again, an enemy of the state, Bruce Banner is considered extremely dangerous, and-”

Pietro paused the TV right before the picture of Dr Banner could disappear.

He’s rail skinny as opposed to the slightly rounded stomach she remembers, his curls are gone, he doesn’t have on his glasses, and if she didn’t know he was white, she’d assume he was Indian or Mexican.

It must be an older picture, she realises.

Pietro follows her to their room. “What are we going to do?”

Going through the closet, she says, “Pietro, this is something we should talk about before-”

“He saved my life, and he saved a woman at Fury’s. He saved you from killing that chef. We help him.”

She finds the clothes, and turning around, he starts to get his own clothes.

“He did his job for you,” she says. “We don’t know for sure what ‘enemy of the state’ means here.”

“And he helped my sister and an innocent woman when it wasn’t his job. I know the risks, Wanda. We could get thrown back into a prisoner camp. We could be deported back to Sokovia, where Hydra is still very strong. At worst, we could die.”

He puts his hand on her shoulder. “Tell me he isn’t worth this, and we won’t go. But if you’re going to try to help him, so am I.”

She sighs. “We should go out the window. Sam or Steve could be sitting on the porch.”


	3. Chapter 3

In an alley, Bruce Banner pauses.

Looking behind him, he sees nothing, and letting out a silent breath, he turns to find a darkened figure standing right in front of him.

“Dr Banner,” Wanda Maximoff steps into the moonlight, “we’ve never talked about you refunding most of my money. I think now might be a good time.”

He glances behind him, and Pietro Maximoff waves. Tall and strong, the shifter is a twenty-something-year-old man, and he remembers the scrawny, weakened boy littered with bruises he carried out of Hydra’s facility. Even then, though, the word “scrappy” had been in his head.

Turning back, he quietly says, “You don’t know what I am.”

“That’s true. But I do know who you are. You didn’t even know that about me or my brother when you first helped us.”

Hoping there’s no one around who’ll get hurt if they attack, he shakes his head. “That wasn’t kindness, Miss Maximoff. After you retained my services, someone else contacted me. They wanted a DNA sample from your brother.”

He looks back. “When I got you out, I cut off a lock of your hair and swapped your mouth.”

The twins share a look.

“I’m still curious why you gave me the money back. Come with us, doctor. We won’t hurt you.”

You can’t hurt me, he thinks. I’m the most dangerous person in this alley.

Except, they don’t know this. They might not believe it if they did.

Yet, there’s a sincerity to both of their eyes.

…

Just as Wanda’s closing the bedroom window she hears one of their phones ringing.

Before she can do anything, Pietro’s handing it to her.

“Maximoff,” Fury’s voice fills the air.

“You’re on speaker,” she informs him. “Pietro answered, and I’m not sure how to take you off.”

“That’s fine. Why didn’t you answer earlier?”

“Since Pietro came, I usually take my shower at night instead of in the morning.”

“But you and your brother are okay?”

“Yes, we’re fine. Pietro’s a little upset about this actress he likes becoming a series regular on another show, but-”

“I looked it up, and they have a vampire writer! Based on the previews, how can they so badly mess up when-”

“Look, two things,” Fury’s weary, slightly amused voice breaks in. “One, we’re closing at eleven tonight. Someone will call you tomorrow night to tell you when you come in again. You good on food?”

“Yes, we’re fine. Thank you.”

“Two, that fugitive on the news, he’s Bruce Banner. You obviously knew something about him before you flew him into the diner, but trust me, you don’t know him as well as you might think. What he did for that woman- Don’t go looking for him, and if he shows up, be smart, Maximoff.”

“Why would two immigrants go looking for an American fugitive?”

Dr Banner raises an eyebrow, and she turns away.

“Okay, good. Are all your windows and doors locked?”

“Yes,” Pietro answers. “I just checked.

“You two take care of yourselves.”

“We will,” she and Pietro say.

“Bye.”

“Goodbye.” She hangs up.

“Impressive,” Dr Banner comments. “You’ve got twisting the truth without technically lying down pat.”

“Do you want some cake, doctor?” Offering it, Pietro tosses her a warmed mug of pigeon blood.

“Thank you,” she says. “Or we have some other food.”

“Some cake would be good, thank you.”

Handing the doctor a plate and some silverware, he says, “Here, this is my bed. If you’re staying for the night, you can sleep on it, and I’ll sleep with Wanda.”

“That wouldn’t be a good idea.” Dr Banner sits.

She sits on her own bed. “We didn’t hear anything but that you’re an enemy of the state. What’s the story?”

Letting out a wary chuckle, he takes a bite of the cake. “You aren’t going to ask about the DNA sample?”

The truth is, for all the new questions this brings up, it also makes them make a little more sense. Dr Banner must constantly be working on behalf of desperate people, and some of them, she knows, have far worse stories than hers and Pietro’s. He wasn’t attracted her. She believed Sam when he said it wasn’t out of friendship to him and Steve.

Someone has developed an interest in them, and this is uneasy but unsurprising news. Unseen people have been targeting them since they were human children.

It wasn’t Hydra. They already had Pietro. If anything, they’d have wanted a sample from _her_ , but it wouldn’t take someone with Dr Banner’s skills to obtain one.

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted my brother free, and he wanted freedom. You gave us both.”

Pietro nods. “But will you tell us who it was?”

“No.” Dr Banner prods at his cake. “There aren’t many people I fear. This person is one of them. If I tell you- it wouldn’t just be me I’d be putting in danger.”

“Why’d you return the money, then? You didn’t expect to ever see us, again, did you? You could have kept it and anything this person gave you.”

“That wouldn’t have been fair,” is his simple response.

She gets the impression he meant to sound cynical or vaguely sarcastic, but she’s known too many people who try to hide behind such things. In the end, they can’t hide who they truly are anymore than she can.

“Tell us the story about you being on the run, doctor,” Pietro urges.

They wait.

“Here’s the first thing you need to know about me: I’m not an Inhuman, and I’m not a mutant. Whether I fit the definition of “shifter” is debatable, but I don’t exactly fit the preternatural mould, either.”

“Are you a kanima,” Pietro asks. “Because, one of our- our mother’s great-grandmother, she saved a person who was a kanima.”

“No,” Dr Banner answers, and he looks- not surprised by the question, exactly, but surprised by the way it was asked, perhaps.

Even when she first came to America and had a hard time re-establishing her link with Pietro, she doesn’t think she’s ever been as alone as this man is right now, and it makes her heart physically ache.

“Almost eight years ago, I was a scientist for the military. General Thaddeus Thunderbolt Ross, now Secretary of State, made me believe they wanted synthesised blood for vampire soldiers. It turned out, what they were really after was a way to create vaewolves. But I found this out after everything happened.”

He leans against the wall, and she resists the urge to touch his hand. “Part of my work was making sure the synthesised blood wouldn’t be contaminated by radiation. I was hoping I could find a serum to prevent radiation poisoning in human soldiers, too. But,” he lets out a bitter sound, “I got arrogant. I was sure I was onto something, and so, I injected the serum into myself and tested it.”

“Now, whenever I can’t control my anger or when there’s sufficient injury to my body, the other guy comes out. A large, green hulking mass of destruction that destroys everything and everyone in his path.”

“And you’re sure you’re not a mutant or Inhuman,” Pietro asks.

“I don’t have the X-gene.”

“Your story is important, but can you tell me the difference between mutants and Inhumans,” she asks. “I always forget they’re two different things.”

“Only to a certain degree.” She can tell he’s mentally working out the best way to break his answer down in simple terms. “Not everyone with the X-Gene has powers and superhuman abilities. The people who are born with the gene active or who begin manifesting as they get older are mutants. Inhumans are people who have the gene but will only manifest if they’re exposed to Terrigen.”

She wonders how anyone can know if the people who undergo the Terrigen process wouldn’t have eventually manifested on their own, but now definitely isn’t the time. Besides, she imagines someone so intelligent would definitely not enjoy trying to explain concepts he finds so simple to someone so uneducated.

“Wanda was one of the smartest in our school when we were growing up, and she liked doing homework,” Pietro announces.

Putting up some mental shields, she says, “But that doesn’t matter. Go on, doctor, and tell us how you ended up here.”

“Ross wanted to lock me up and have me studied. He wanted to see if the other guy could be tamed. Controlled. So, I ran. For over five years, I wandered other countries.”

A small smile crosses his face. “But then, my ex-fiancée became friends with Pepper Potts, and suddenly, I had Stark Industries on my side. They have dealings with SHIELD, and I was granted asylum here.”

He sighs. “Should have known it wouldn’t last. Ross is never going to stop, and now, he’s found something to use against me.”

“What,” she gently asks.

“When I was on the run, I provided medical services whenever I could. I could usually get food or a temporary place to sleep in exchange. At one point, a rich man had a thirteen-year-old girl who was bitten by an alpha. Her body was rejecting the bite. When he had me brought to him and his daughter, I helped her. Then, last year, that girl, Magda Antonia Yang married into Latveria’s monarchy.”

Eventually, they realise this is the story.

“You helped a little girl, and now, you’re an enemy of the state?” Pietro asks. “Dr Banner, I’m not saying we disbelieve you helped her, but expecting us to believe-”

“I didn’t help a little girl. Her marriage into the Latveria monarchy was arranged before she was even born. Latveria is an inch away from being at war with America, and Ross has successfully made a case that I did it to help strengthen one of America’s enemies.”

“Did you even know this little girl was arranged to be married into the Lavteria monarchy,” she asks.

“It doesn’t matter, but no.”

Right, she thinks. In the diner, he said he “used” to be a doctor, but that’s not true. Taking a license away doesn’t unbind him from the oath he once took, and far from home, living in poverty, she’s willing bet that, even more than money offered, grieving pleas, or threats, he saw a child dying, and he couldn’t not help.

“My best hope is to get to Mexico. Once I’m out of the country, I can disappear.”

“What about this fiancée,” Pietro asks. “If she helped you once before, would she again?”

“Ex-fiancée. That’s where things get even more complicated. Betty is his daughter.” Setting the plate aside, he digs out a picture.

“Oh,” Pietro gasps. “Dr Ross. Look, Wanda.”

Sure enough, the picture is of a younger Dr Ross, and she wonders why she- Ross isn’t an uncommon surname, but still, how could she have not known sooner? Dr Ross herself had said Pepper Potts helped someone she clearly loves.

Dr Banner looks at them warily.

“She helped Wanda get a library card.” Finding it, Pietro hands it to Dr Banner. “Is the baby yours?”

A sad smile crosses Dr Banner’s face. “No. You met Betty? How was she? The baby? Do you know if it’s going to be a girl or boy?”

“She seemed happy, and she was healthy. It was too soon to tell for sure, but I think the baby is a girl.”

“After last time, Ross will have already brought Betty in. He wouldn’t hurt her, but she’s not going to be able to have any contact without the outside world for- I don’t know. Once I’m in Mexico, I’m going to send him a message. Hopefully, that will be enough to get him to let her go back to her life.”

“What’s the best way to get to Mexico,” Pietro asks. “Can I run there?”

“No, Pietro, it’s another country. It’d be like running from Sokovia to Russia.”

He frowns. “Too bad. I’ll look it up.”

“Just be careful. Remember to put the safe search on like Sam showed us.”

Apparently, search engines are supposed to automatically be set to safe mode, but for some reason, hers wasn’t until Sam fixed it.

Suddenly, there’s a loud noise, she finds Pietro holding her, and she realises the loud noise is knocking at the door. “Wanda? Pietro? It’s Steve and Sam. Could we talk to you?”

“Did I-” Looking up, she sees, no, Pietro caught her in time, and she didn’t damage the ceiling and Miss Hardwick’s floor again.

“Hide, doctor,” Pietro says, and then, carrying her out, he shuts the door.

“It’s okay. I can walk now.”

They answer the door, and despite the smiles Sam and Steve have, they looked worried.

“Hey, it okay if we come in,” Sam asks.

They step aside, and bless him, Pietro says, “You two don’t look happy.”

More than this, their eyes are clearly searching.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick,” Sam says.

Steve sighs. “Have you two heard about Bruce Banner being a fugitive?”

“Yes. Fury called earlier. The diner’s closing at eleven today.”

“And have either of you seen him tonight or earlier today?”

Damn me, she thinks. There’s no way to answer that without lying-

“We saw his picture on the TV. He looks different,” Pietro says.

 _You’re amazing_ , she thinks towards her brother.

“Okay, uh- I mean, have you physically seen him?”

“Does he look like the picture? Wanda thinks it was taken when he was younger. If not, I’ve never seen him looking like that in person.”

She can practically see Steve giving up.

Hopefully, it’s because he’s decided the answer is ‘no’ rather than ‘there will be no straight answer from these two’.

“If you do see him, call us or the police right away.”

“That’s what the news said, too,” she says. “Well, obviously, not about calling you or Sam, but, ‘People are advised to avoid contact and immediately contact local authorities if Bruce Banner is spotted.’”

Sam comes out. “Hey, Pietro, how does some ice-cream sound? I also have a coupon for some cow’s blood at that butcher’s shop. We could pick some up for your sister.”

This isn’t unusual in and of itself. Sometimes, Steve and Sam will split them up. Sam usually takes Pietro for ice-cream, but occasionally, she’ll go with him for bus rides, and once, they spent the night fishing together. Usually, when they’re gone, she and Steve will talk and maybe go for a walk. When it’s Steve and Pietro, they often go running.

However, she gets the feeling there’s something more beneath the surface.

“That sounds good,” she says. “Pietro, you can see if they have that new ice-cream flavour we read about.”

…

Once Pietro and Sam are gone, Steve takes out a sketch. “I was working on this earlier. It’s a little creased, but Sam wouldn’t let me throw it out.”

It’s beautiful, and she wishes she didn’t feel as if there’s some manipulation going on.

Remembering the fugitive doctor she left in her room, she knows she has no high ground to feel this way.

“Thank you, Steve. I’ll thank Sam when he comes back. I’m going to pin it in our room.”

They go in the room, and she can see him eyeing the closed closet door.

“It seems as if you have something on your mind,” she says.

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I do.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Bruce Banner.”

Going to the living room, she grabs the laundry basket, and opening the closet, she pulls out the clothes hamper.

“He might make contact with you or Pietro.”

She looks up from the clothes she’s sorting.

“If he does, you might be tempted to help him. I know he helped get Pietro here and might have saved that woman’s life, but sometimes, the good a person did in the past doesn’t make the bad they do later on less serious. And Banner’s been a fugitive before. He knows how to manipulate people.”

“Why was he a fugitive? And what did he do now? The news report didn’t say anything about that.”

“I’m not sure myself, but the thing is: Bruce would have come to me or Sam if he were innocent, Wanda. If he comes to you or Pietro, don’t help him. Don’t put yourself and your brother at risk.”

“Why are you so concerned he might come to us? I’m not exactly the most stable person around, and some would say Pietro isn’t, either.”

A small smile crosses his face. “You’re plenty stable, kid.” Then, the smile disappears. “You’re also kind and protective. And Pietro would follow you anywhere. I promise you, neither me or Sam had anything to do with him refunding your money. The reason he might come to you two is, because, you’re a smart, protective girl who believes in justice, and he’s shown kindness, given you and Pietro real help in the past.”

“I believe there should be justice, but I wouldn’t say I believe in it. More than that, though, you know I place Pietro above anything and anyone.”

“Good. I just-” He pauses. “I don’t want you or your brother to get in over your heads. As much as I’ve said about doing what’s right even when there might be consequences, sometimes, you need to listen when someone tells you that, no matter how it feels, something isn’t right. Helping him wouldn’t be right, Wanda.”

“Well, I don’t remember when exactly I saw him last. We won’t answer the door for anyone we don’t know. Pietro and I are watching a marathon of Law and Order: Paranormal Division. He really likes the vampire actress who plays Madison. It’s a shame she signed onto such a horrible looking show.”

A relieved look crosses Steve’s face. “Okay. Good. Pietro should be back soon. Want me to take that down to the laundry room for you?”

“That would be nice, thank you. Pietro was supposed to do it yesterday, but I swear, it’s as if the sun is painful to _him_ whenever it’s his day to do it.”

Laughing, he takes the basket, and a blurry memory floods her.

Kneeling on the ground, Dr Banner is contemptuously looking down at an older black man. “No time for sympathy, colonel. Because, when it comes down to it, that’s all you are, isn’t it? Stark might be dead, and you may never fully recover from this injury. Meanwhile, there’s a bomb about to kill American citizens. Stand up, soldier.”

The memory breaks, and Steve’s voice is concerned, “Wanda?”

She blinks. “Sorry. Just a memory. We still have a little bit of cake left. Do you want to take it with you?”

…

After Steve leaves, she locks the front door, and going back to her room, she says, “He’s gone.”

Easing out from underneath Pietro’s bed, Dr Banner sighs. “Thanks for not telling him.”

He starts to head for the window, and she grabs his arm. “We’re still helping you. Pietro will be back soon.”

“Did you happen to be present for the conversation I just heard?”

“Yes.” She leads him into the living room. “Steve sometimes thinks he knows people better than he does. I’m not sure if you’re a cold man or not, doctor, but I know, if you were guilty, you might go to him. He’d help his own worst enemy if they made him believe there was a real chance they’d change.”

Looking down at the spot where Steve pressed areoplane tickets into her hand, she sees a library book laying on the coffee table. “I believe there are some people he’d listen to if they told him something he thought right wasn’t, but he once told me there’d come a day when I’d face a choice. And he may not like it, but I’m making the same one he’d probably make in my situation.”

She looks over. “I believe helping you is the right thing to do, Dr Banner, and my brother agrees. So, we’re going to help you.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in, Pietro,” she calls.

Slipping in, Pietro quickly locks the door. “Sam isn’t sure the doctor is guilty, but he does think,” he glances at Dr Banner, “you can be dangerous.”

A pang of doubt slips through. Sam can often see people more clearly than Steve can, and as such, he’s more suspicious and cautious of most people. Steve, on the other hand, is almost always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Shaking it away, she asks, “Would it be better to travel on foot or in the air? Or both?”

Pietro fidgets. “If we need a car- I have keys to Sam’s. And he probably wouldn’t notice it was missing until morning.”

“You stole Fal- Sam Wilson’s car keys.”

They both look at him, and she can feel Pietro’s offence is even deeper than hers.

“No. I wouldn’t steal from- We might temporarily steal the car, but under normal circumstances, neither Wanda or I would ever steal from Sam or Steve.”

“Sam’s been teaching Pietro how to drive. On that note, can you drive? If we take the car, you’ll need to.”

“I could if I had to,” Pietro says.

…

Getting back from the store with the window frosting spray, she pauses when she hears Steve and Sam talking down in the laundry room.

“You staying the night?”

“Yeah,” Sam answers. “Hey, nothing much we can do. If Banner were hurt or captured, we’d know by now. He just isn’t answering. You know better than most how he is about letting people in. He’s worse than our little vampire neighbour ever was.”

“She’s gotten better since Pietro came,” Steve says. “Kid just had a healthy sense of caution.”

If she had a better sense of caution, Steve wouldn’t be making her feel incredibly guilty with no effort on his part.

He sighs. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t help but worry about them and Bruce. Part of me doesn’t think he’d go to her, but- what if she and Pietro go to him?”

“How’d they even find him,” Sam good-naturedly points out. “She doesn’t have a nest, and he doesn’t have a pack. Their senses are stronger than mine, but in comparison to other shifters-”

“That’s true.”

“Besides, as soon as we left, the TV was back on. They’re being normal twenty-somethings, using the unexpected free time to laze about, binging on Law and Order. Hey, speaking of that, that present we ordered for their birthday-”

Deliberately tuning them out, she hurries away. Assuming she and Pietro manage to survive this with their freedom intact, she needs to make sure Sam and Steve definitely do not get them any birthday presents.

…

Stopping at a red light, Dr Banner looks at them through the rear-view mirror. “Hey, uh, thanks for this.”

She nods.

“How do you get in and out of Hydra facilities,” Pietro asks. “It’s not this other guy you talk about, is it?”

“Yes and no. I always try my best to keep him from coming out. But with him always lurking inside, I’m not human anymore. I can- tap into certain things that help without him coming out.”

His anger is sharp in the confined space of the car.

“But they weren’t responsible for him. Or were they? Is Dr Ross’s father Hydra?”

“No. The one thing I can say for him is he is a true patriot. I’m after them, because, for one thing, they’re after me. For another, they hurt a good person. Not a friend, but someone I knew.”

Pietro glances at her, and she knows he’s imagining her without him, doing something similar.

They both know it’s not an equal comparison. Even if she were as smart as Dr Banner, she doesn’t have his temperament. He causes grief by getting people and possibly information out. He feeds and shelters himself by the money people pay for him to cause this grief.

She wouldn’t have the patience to cause such slow, minor but still persistent grief. She’d be neutralised soon enough. She’d burn down a facility, maybe kill a few Hydra operatives, and in the end, it’d be a blip to them.

If nothing else, she’d help Dr Banner, because, he might continue to be a creeping, slow-effecting but powerful enemy to them.

The radio crackles, and the song playing is interrupted by the emergency tone that always makes her want to claw out her ears.

(If not for Steve, she might have been deported for the damage she caused the first time her clock radio woke her up with it. She’d reacted on instinct, and poor Miss Hardwick was afraid for _months_ that another radio was suddenly going to go through her table and break more of her priceless china.)

“By Presidential order, all residents must clear out of these following cities immediately...”

Dr Banner tenses, and the light turns green.

“Oh, good, ours isn’t in them. Still, should we call Steve or Sam, they might check on...”

“Military tests of a classified...”

Pulling into a fast food parking lot, Dr Banner does a U-Turn.

“Dr Banner,” she quietly asks.

“Time for you two to go back home. I just figured out why Thunderbolt is desperate to find me.”

“We’ll help-” She starts.

“I’m not the only one with another guy inside me. Thunderbolt had an army buddy who, with his blessing, took something similar to what I did. And he turned out even worse than my guy.”

“He’s escaped,” Pietro guesses.

“Yeah, and,” Dr Banner lets out a wry sound, “it’s not arrogance to say I’m the only one who has a chance at stopping him.”

“And you’re going to,” she says.

“Again: Yes. You know, for a second, I wondered why he didn’t just contact me normally, but the answer’s obvious, isn’t?”

Yes, it is. “He’s going to try his hardest to take you both in. This is the perfect excuse. Two monsters fighting. You won’t be the hero.”

He nods.

Leaning forward, she touches his arm. “You don’t have to. You still have a choice. Going to Mexico.”

“I’m the only one who has a chance at stopping him, and it was my research, my formula, that played a part. Innocent people are likely going to die no matter what, but hopefully, I can minimise the number.”

Pietro touches her arm, and when she leans back, he turns the steering wheel.

“What in the hell-”

“We’ll make better time if we go straight to that first city they said. There will be people who refuse to leave. We might have a better chance at making them than the military.”

Dr Banner tries to turn the car around, but Pietro keeps his hand on the wheel.

Sighing, Dr Banner thankfully stops the car. “I’d rather drop you off at home, but right now, I’d be fine with leaving you to fend for yourself here. I’m not taking two kids-”

“We’re- Wanda was nineteen when she turned, a legal adult, and I’m twenty-one. If not for me being a werecoywolf, I could legally order a drink right now.”

She knows what he means: In America, any shifter who’s manifested can order regular human alcoholic drinks regardless of their age, but humans have to be, at least, twenty-one.

However, she’s not sure other people would understand what he’s trying to say.

“Dr Banner, we’re from Sokovia. I almost died, because, we didn’t have vaccines or antibiotics. An out-of-control alpha bit Pietro when we were children. Even before Hydra targeted us specifically, our country was always war-torn. We did what we could to help people, but we also stole to survive, and at one point, something happened, and I ended up killing innocent people. Pietro spent almost three years a prisoner of Hydra. You know yourself someone very dangerous besides Hydra might be after us. Now, drive to the nearest city they listed, and we’ll figure out a plan on the way.”

He looks at Pietro through the mirror. “Pietro?”

“You heard my sister, doctor.”

Dr Banner restarts the car.

…

Finding a place to hide the car, they watch the abominable creature from a tree.

“Will those weapons have any real effect,” she asks.

“No,” Dr Banner sighs. He slides down, and when they follow, he says, “You two might want to get back up there. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”

He starts to undress, and turning her around, Pietro asks him, “How will you bring this other guy out?”

“He always wants to come out. I just have to let him.”

Extending her hand backwards, she says, “If you haven’t already taken off your underwear, don’t. I’m turning back around.” She does, and thankfully, he hasn’t. “I could make it relatively painless.”

He hesitates, and then, finishing taking off his pants, shoes, and socks, he hands her his glasses. “That’d be good. Just make sure you’re out of striking distance when he starts to emerge.”

Looking into his eyes, she moves her hand behind her back. “I mean you no harm, Dr Banner. Right now, this one inside, I mean him no harm, and I’ll help you both.”

Bringing her hand behind his neck, she opens her fist, and carefully, she sinks her blood-covered claw into his neck.

There’s a slight jerk, and then, he looks at her with placid eyes.

“Remember happy memories, Dr Banner, and then, fall asleep to them.”

Fragments of happiness dance around her head, and then, Dr Banner’s eyes close. When his body begins turning, she removes her claw, and she and Pietro go back up the tree.

‘Hulking, green mass’ truly is the best description for the other one.

He glances at the tree before heading towards the abominable one.

“What about those soldiers,” Pietro asks.

They go back down, and she answers, “They have the right to risk their lives. Let’s go save the stupid people who don’t.”

“Some of them may not have been able to leave.”

“Then, we’ll help them without calling them stupid.”


	4. Chapter 4

Avoiding the soldiers, they go to houses and buildings to listen for heartbeats inside.

Pietro drags a man dressed in camouflage out. “Did you make sure to get all the doctor’s blood off?”

“Yes, I washed my claw and both hands with alcohol.”

The struggling man screams, and rolling her eyes, she jabs her claw into his neck.

He goes still, and looking in his eyes, she says, “My hold will vanish once you’re safely out of this city. There’s soldiers two blocks here who are helping get out people who’ve changed their mind about staying. Tell them you’ve changed your mind, and follow their instructions. Be careful. Protect yourself in getting there.”

“And don’t tell them about the vampire and werecoywolf,” Pietro adds.

“Yes, do all this, and until my hold breaks, you will say nothing of me or the one who brought you to me.”

She removes her claw. “Now go.”

As the man walks away, a flying car crashes through the house.

She’s not sure if this is a sign of God’s protection over the man or a sign she and Pietro are on divine radar, but unless she gets an explicit sign to stop, she’s going to cautiously assume there’s an implicit approval to what they’re doing.

…

They get people and pets out, and Pietro takes hand sanitizer and wipies from several places.

At one place, he comes out with a struggling woman wrapped in a blanket, and oddly, he’s deliberately looking away from both of them.

“I only saw her hair for a second,” he wearily declares. “And I’m not touching her skin.”

“What is she,” she cautiously asks.

“A Muslim.”

“Oh, okay.” Relaxing, she inserts her claw, and when the blanket starts to fall, Pietro catches it as he moves away.

Thankfully, the woman is fully dressed.

“If it helps, my brother is asexual. He brought you to me, because, I made a sort of promise to get everyone who might be hurt by the fighting to safety.”

The woman’s body relaxes, and she has the feeling the trapped part is genuinely relieved by all this.

Unwrapping the scarf around her head and taking out the pins, she says, “Take this. My hold will vanish once you’re safely out of this neighbourhood.” She gives directions to the soldiers. “I don’t know if they have any women ones, but I promise you: If any of the men hurt you, I’ll try my best to make them see justice. Until my hold breaks, tell no one of me or the one who brought you to me.”

She removes her claw, and the woman puts the scarf on.

“Now go.”

After the woman does, and Pietro says, “Wait a minute.” Going back inside, he soon comes out with a chador. “The sun is going to rise soon. I’ll start looking for sunblock.”

“Thank you.” She puts it on, and it’s a little big and short on her, but if they’re still out when the sun comes, it’ll be more help than her umbrella alone will be.

…

The abominable one reverts back, and from what she can see, his human shape is unimpressive.

It’s probably wrong to wish he’d died, but she can’t help feel there’d be some justice if he had. He escaped military custody, and who’s to say he won’t be able to do it again?

“What do we do about Dr Banner?”

A tank goes flying, and flying Pietro up to redirect it into an empty building, she answers, “We keep getting people away. When he comes back, we might be able to help him.”

Then again, if the abominable one can escape, perhaps, it’s a sign Dr Banner would be able to, too.

“What about the soldiers who are trying to stop him?”

She shrugs. “We can pray for them if you want.”

“No. God would rather us keep helping people than wasting time on that, I think.”

“Next place we find some food, get some. You’ll get slower if you get any hungrier,” she says.

….

Hulk, as she’s heard the soldiers calling Dr Banner’s other guy, is raging, but he doesn’t seem to specifically want to hurt humans. Mainly, he just smashes things and roars.

Suddenly, a scent floats through the air, and she lands in front of Pietro.

“What?”

“I might have an idea how to bring Dr Banner back, but- Pietro, death is a very real possibility.”

…

There’s no concrete scientific evidence, but Dr Betty Ross is afraid her baby is going to suffer from life-long anxiety.

If she thought it had a chance in hell of working, she’d sue the general to pay for the therapy bills, but on his list of unreasonable, asshole beliefs and ideals, psychiatry is quackery, and anyone who needs mental health care is either faking it or incurable.

In what might be irony, therapy is what has kept her from committing cold-blooded murder these past few years.

Now, screw therapy and healthy coping mechanisms. If not for her preborn baby, she’d take her chances with the armed soldiers and secret service agents, try her best to grab a gun, and aim.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly says, “Gen- People are dying. I can stop him. You know I can.”

He gives her a contemptuous look, and even after everything, it still hurts.

Sorry, I wasn’t a boy, dad. Sorry, I wasn’t a soldier. Sorry, I wanted my daddy to be healthy. Sorry, I fell in love with a beautiful, kind man. Sorry, you’re too focused on the good ole days when only whores got pregnant out-of-wedlock to be happy you’re hopefully going to have a granddaughter soon.

“You’d place him over your own baby?”

“Bruce won’t hurt me. You know he won’t.”

“He did,” is the roaring response.

Stay calm, she tells herself. Stay-

“That was your fault. All of this is your fault. You put your pregnant daughter in handcuffs.”

“I gave you the choice to come willingly. And I thought you told me to never-”

“I’m not your daughter. This baby I’m carrying will never be exposed to you. You were a five-star general. You’re Secretary of State. And out there, people are dying. American civilians. Instead of doing everything you can to protect them, you’re holding hostage the one person who can.”

“I-”

She jumps at the sudden alarms blaring, and her baby gives a distressed kick.

“Sh.” Cupping her stomach, she starts to say, “It’ll-”

“Ma’am, you need to come with us. Mr Secretary-”

“I’m coming. Protect her and the baby. Betty, come on, please-”

She sees him reaching for her arm, and then, she and everyone else is staring at the bullet-ridden were-shifter holding his claws up to her father’s neck.

It might be cowardice, but she has to close her eyes as she tries to catch her breath.

“Open the window,” an accented voice orders.

Opening her eyes, she sees no one is sure what to do, and thank God, the general’s still alive. He just can’t talk due to the claws ready to sink into his neck if only a fraction of movement is made.

Trying to keep her voice steady, she starts, “If we open the window, will you-”

Brown eyes meet hers, and her heart beats erratically at the sudden knowledge this man is here for _her_.

“Will you tell us your name? I’m sure there are ways we can get you whatever you want or need without you hurting anyone.” Else, is the elephant in the room word. Who knows how many he killed to get here?

His eyes are yellow, but this isn’t a reliable indication a shifter has never killed.

Swaying but managing to stay upright and not kill her father, the man says, “I agree. Open the window. If I have to kill every man and all but one woman in here, I will, but I don’t want to.”

She looks over. “Soldier, open the window.”

“Ma’am- Mr Secretary- This man is-”

There’s knocking at the window, and the man mutters something in a foreign language.

“The person outside will break down the window, if necessary. That could hurt your baby, Dr Ross. I know how this must all seem, but I’ve spent almost all night trying to save lives. I don’t want to take anyone’s.”

“Open it,” she tells the soldier.

The window’s opened, and there’s no one out there.

“Come back,” the man calls.

She turns to him. “You know my name? How? Do you-”

“Dr Ross.”

Hearing a familiar voice, she turns, and illuminated by moonlight, Wanda Maximoff is hovering outside.

“I’m sorry about this, but I can take you to Dr Banner.”

Vaguely aware Wanda is still talking, she’s stops walking when she realises who the man must be, and turning, she says, “You must be Pietro. Wanda’s told me all about you. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.”

Everything but his claws shifts back to human. “Yes, Wanda’s told me all about you, too. Again, sorry about this. I promise I’ll let your father go after you and her are out of striking distance.”

She nods, and then- sighing, she shakes her head. “No. Just stay like this until I get back. Daddy, I’m truly sorry, but just like I’m not going to let you take Bruce, I’m not going to let you hurt these two.”

Behind her, her father makes a terrifying noise, but she keeps walking until she gets to the window.

“Hold your hands out, and I’ll get you.”

God protect my baby, she prays.

…

If bravery is a trait Dr Banner values, it’s no wonder he fell for Dr Ross.

Wanda wishes she could feel brave right now. Pietro’s still conscious and standing, but he’s riddled with bullets.

Steve warned her, but it’s finally starting to sink in: Everything they’ve worked for is gone. A safe place to live, plenty of food for him and blood for her, a job he loves.

Aside from Garrett, she’s going to miss the people at her job.

In her arms, Dr Ross’s baby gives an unhappy kick.

Even if Steve condemns her, even he’d have to admit saving innocent lives and protecting a wronged person is something worth giving up almost everything for.

“How exactly do you know Bruce?”

“Pietro was a prisoner of Hydra. I hired Dr Banner to get him out.”

A soft smile crosses Dr Ross’s face.

They get near Hulk, and she hesitates. Maybe, it’d be better to fly Dr Ross back-

“It’s okay,” Dr Ross gently says. “They may be separate entities, but Bruce is still inside him. Neither of them will ever hurt me. Go on, sweetie, and get us a little closer.”

Seeing no one is currently shooting or aiming other weapons, she does.

Hulk is about to stomp a building, and she calls, “Dr Banner!”

Roaring, he turns, and his fist is poised to strike, but then- Hulk is certainly capable of love.

“A little closer,” Dr Ross says. “Hey. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen one another.”

There’s a thud as Hulk sits down.

She flies them down.

Carefully walking over, Dr Ross smiles up at him.

He peers down. “Baby?”

“Yes. A little girl.” Taking his hand, she touches one of his fingers to her stomach.

Watching as Dr Banner shifts back, she tosses him his glasses.

“Betty?” He looks at Dr Ross with wide-eyed, loving eyes.

“Welcome back.” Kissing his cheek, Dr Ross runs a hand through his hair.

“Are you and the baby-”

“We’re fine. So’s everyone else. Abomination was taken back into custody.”

A pang goes through her, and she gasps. “My brother. I have to go. Sorry.”

Flying, she begs him, _Answer me. Stay alive. What’s happening?_

Something tingles, and then, she’s being grabbed.

Through the fighting, she hears, “Wanda, it’s Sam. Sam Wilson. Wanda, I need you to come out of this. Please, stop trying to claw me to death, Wanda. It’s-”

She blinks, and- “Sam?”

He smiles. “Yeah. I know I never mentioned it, but I can fly, too, baby girl.”

Well, he can’t fly on his own, but the mechanical wings he’s wearing-

“Sam, let go. I’m sorry about your car and the lying-”

“Y’all took my car?” He sighs. “Fine. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. Mostly in myself. It’s my fault for giving a set of keys to an impulsed-challenged kid and his crusading sister in the first place.”

They land, and vaguely aware the two doctors are nearby, she starts to protest Pietro isn’t impulse-challenged, but he continues, “Just tell me which one of you drove.”

She points down. “Dr Banner did.”

“Oh, thank God.” Clear relief goes through Sam’s body. “Look, Wanda, Steve has your brother. They’ll be here soon.” Leaning down, he greets, “Hey, doc. How you doing?”

“I could be doing a lot better. Uh, Sam, this is my ex-fiancée, Betty Ross.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr Ross. So, uh, you made sure they wore their seatbelts right?”

Digging the keys out, she hands them to him. “Yes. And he made us ride in the backseat. I wanted to ride up front. Why- how- Steve having Pietro, I’m confused.”

“Good.” Sam stands up. “You can thank Steve. He texted you that your laundry was dry, asked if you wanted him to bring it up. When you didn’t answer, he texted Pietro, and then, called both of you. I texted and called both of you. We went to your apartment, heard your phone ringing, and Pietro’s kept going straight to voicemail. He couldn’t hear Pietro’s heartbeat.”

She winces.

“We called your boss and Stark industries both. Fury and Happy Hogan called around, and no one knew where you might be. So, we called a police to do a wellness check.” He grimaces. “That was fun.”

“They got the super to unlock your door, and neither of you were in there. We were seeing about the possibility of doing a missing person’s report when some of our buddies who are still in the military sent drone footage of Pietro dragging people out of houses and you entrancing them.”

“About that-”

He sighs. “You’re damn lucky all of them got safely evacuated. That in combination with you two doing what law enforcement wishes they could do, we almost had everything sorted. Then, we hear that a werewolf, yeah, I know, he’s a coywolf, and vampire attacked Thunderbolt and kidnapped his pregnant daughter.”

Dr Ross stands up. “I wasn’t kidnapped. Not by Wanda. My father had me dragged out of my house in handcuffs and had me detained. I wanted to go to Bruce. When Wanda came, I knew Pietro wouldn’t hurt my father.”

“Here they come,” he says.

Following his gaze, she sees a helicopter approaching. “Pietro? He’s in there?”

“Yeah.” Sam grabs her. “He’ll come down. You stay.”

“He’s hurt, I need to-”

Landing, Steve unbuckles a backpack from his waist, and when Pietro’s head pops out, she demands, “You jumped out of a plane without a parachute while you were carrying my brother?”

“Pietro’s fine. I didn’t need one.”

“He can’t fly! A landing from that height could kill him!”

“Would you use a parachute,” Sam asks.

“I’m a full vampire. I’ve been flying since I was nineteen.” She glares at Steve. “You’re not. You can’t fly.”

Pietro whines, and kneeling down to hug him, she continues glaring up.

Once she makes contact with Pietro, however, a memory overtakes her.

“ _You sure about this, Pietro?”_

“ _Yes,” Pietro gasps. “Do it. I’m ready.”_

 _Steve sticks a claw into Pietro’s neck, and as Pietro’s body forcibly transforms, the bullets fall out_.

Before she can say anything, Steve’s pulling her up and pressing Pietro into her arms. “The sun’s starting to come up. Look, Wanda, Pietro, you need to listen. Here’s a phone,” Sam slips it into her pocket, “and here’s a map. You need to go there and stay until we call. Dr Helen Cho is a friend of ours. She’ll help you.”

Adjusting the chador, he opens her umbrella. “It’ll hurt. Weaken you. But with the shield over the state, it won’t kill you.”

“When you get there, ask her how her Norse mythology studying is going,” Sam says. “She’ll probably scowl, but don’t take it personally. It’s use she’ll want to kill, not you two.”

“No,” Steve says. “Just say, ‘Thor sends his regards.’”

She looks down at Dr Banner.

He nods. “Go on. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Steve helps him stand. “We’ll take care of them. Finding out what Ross intended and after what Bruce did to stop Blonsky, we’re not going to let him be taken.”

“Dr Ross,” she asks.

“I’ll be fine. I know my father, and he might make my life hell, but he isn’t going to lock me up. Go on, Wanda.”

…

She’s going to die.

Pietro yips.

“No, you’ll fall over if you try to walk.”

He makes a protesting noise.

“I don’t know why you and other people like the sun. All it does is burn things.”

Flashes of them playing in the sunshine go through her head.

“Yes, well, I used to get sick to the stomach at the sight of blood. We adapt to what we become.”

Finally, they find the house.

Steeling herself, she goes to ring the bell.

Clutching a Taser baton, a short, Asian woman with glasses hanging from a chain on her neck opens the door. “May I help you?”

“Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson sent us. We’re either supposed to ask you how your studying of Norse mythology goes,” irritation flickers across the woman’s face, “or tell you that Thor sends his regards.”

The irritation, however, is gone before she finishes talking, and tossing the baton aside, the woman says, “Come in. Some day, Sam Wilson will regret constantly winding me up. Here, come into here.”

Finding herself in a room with no sunlight and vampire-neutral lighting, she collapses onto a cot.

“How long have you been in America?” A penlight is shining in her eyes.

“Almost three years. I work and socialise during the night.”

“Here, this will taste terrible, but it’ll help you start healing.”

Managing not to throw it back up, she swallows down the vial.

“Gunshots?” Dr Cho runs gloved hands over Pietro.

“Yes. It’s a very long story.”

“Maybe some other time. Here’s some gowns. I’m going to go get some herbs. Why don’t you two change into them?”

…

They sleep for twelve hours, and when they wake up, there’s a voicemail from Steve saying it’s safe to come back to the apartment.

Dr Cho makes eggs seasoned with herbs for Pietro.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any blood around. I know the synthetic stuff tastes terrible, but you’re welcome to it.”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Examining her, Dr Cho asks, “You two were originally twins?”

The question hits her, and she quickly vanishes the thoughts from her head. Someday, Pietro will be physically old, and she never will be. Death will likely come for him before it does for her.

“Yes.”

“I’m older,” Pietro pipes up.

“Allegedly.”

Dr Cho chuckles. “Would you two like a ride back into the city?”

“No, thank you,” they answer.

“After all this, some flying would do me good.”

“And running for me.”

They dig out their wallets, and she starts to say, “We don’t have much to give-”

“I don’t need or want any payment,” Dr Cho interrupts. “You two aren’t the first or last Steve and the others have sent to me. I trust that there’s a good reason for everyone they do.”

“How do you know them,” Pietro asks. “Steve and Sam have never mentioned you.”

“General Ross wanted to hire me. I’m a geneticist, and he did and didn’t learn from what happened with Bruce. He told me the army wanted to create vaewolves. Of course, he gave me the impression lycanthrope and vampire soldiers were volunteering, and at the time, I had no reason to disbelieve this. I still don’t know whether it’s true or not, but since he originally lied about it to another doctor-” She shakes her head.

“Bruce heard, and he reached out to me through Sam and Steve. He told me what happened to him and warned me to be very careful in trusting Ross. So, I declined the offer.”

“Is Dr Banner a geneticist,” she asks.

A small smile crosses Dr Cho’s face. “Bruce is a jack-of-all trades, but back then, his main area of focus was biochemistry.”

…

Steve and Sam are waiting on the porch when they get back.

Before either she or Pietro can say anything, they’re being pulled into hugs.

Then, Steve says, “You might as well come out, Mr Secretary. We’re not letting these two out of our sight until you’re gone.”

Ross and several people appear.

Her hand finds Pietro’s.

“Nice to know our tax dollars are taking care of everything so well that an elected official, members of the military, and secret service agents can hide in the shadows waiting for a teenage girl and her brother to show up,” Sam comments.

She suppresses a chuckle. “I’m not a-”

“True, but you took my car without permission, you had a man hiding under your brother’s bed, and you snuck in and out of your bedroom window. The comparison is an easy one to make.”

This is both fair and unfair, she decides.

“We’re not leaving without them,” Ross declares.

“Wrong.”

Pietro’s hand keeps her grounded, and looking up, she sees Natasha and Clint up on the roof. Clint has his legs hanging over the ledge, and he’d be the picture of casualness if not for the bow and arrow resting in his lap.

Jumping down, Natasha hands Ross a paper. “If you’ve forgotten, Mr Secretary, President Bork herself has given SHIELD final say over the asylum status of all non-human individuals.”

“SHIELD shouldn’t have so much power.”

“There are those who agree with you. It doesn’t change the fact we do.”

Ross scowls. “These two dragged people out of their homes. She entranced them, which is a felony.”

“Miss Maximoff’s actions have been reviewed by Judge Liam Roth. Forcible entrancement is allowable under extenuating circumstances. The military and law enforcement are often not allowed to forcibly evacuate citizens during times of emergency, but other citizens are unlikely to suffer punishment for doing so. Miss Maximoff’s hold has completely vanished in everyone she entranced, and they were not made to harm themselves or others, break any laws, or subjected to any sexual abuse.”

“She entranced Banner to bring out the Hulk.”

Sidestepping Steve and Sam’s hands, she steps forward. “No.”

“We have drone footage-”

“Does that drone footage have audio? Dr Banner made the decision to let his other guy come out. I offered to make it painless, and he accepted. All I did was bring happy memories to his mind and get him to fall asleep.”

“Dr Banner was planning to go to- He was going to leave so that you couldn’t get to him,” Pietro adds. “When we heard about the evacuations on the radio, he knew what you’d done. We told him he could still go, we’d help him, but he made the choice to stop your old friend.”

“Blonsky made his choice. And so did Banner.”

“Speaking of Bruce Banner, he’s one of SHIELD’s top consultants, and he’s testified on behalf of the Maximoff siblings.” A frown crosses Natasha’s face, and she archly declares, “If not for President Bork’s direct intervention, you would be brought up on charges for falsifying evidence against him, Secretary Ross.”

“I didn’t falsify evidence.”

“If you didn’t, you did everything short of it.”

Ross rubs his temple. “The world’s gone to hell in a handbag. Rogers, Falcon, Agent Barton, even you, Agent Romanov, you can disagree with me on Banner, but these two- you think they deserve your protection? That they deserve to be in this country?”

Sam scoffs. “I know you’re a fairly intelligent man, so, I have to ask: Is it that you don’t see who you’re talking to? Some of my ancestors willingly came here from Jamaica. The rest were slaves brought here in chains from Africa.”

“That’s not-”

“I remember when I was nine or ten, my dad took me to the polls, and despite most of Jim Crow being officially appealed twenty-something years ago, my dad didn’t end up voting that day. Steve here, his mama was first-generation Irish-American. A suffragette. Every time he cheats at basketball-”

“I don’t cheat.”

“He does. The point is, every time he cheats, I end up buying him lunch. There was a time when me and him walking into a restaurant and sitting down together wouldn’t have been possible.”

Steve nods. “Not good times. What happened when people protested that wasn’t good. And I don’t cheat. Anyone going to back me up on this?”

Shaking her head, Natasha gives Clint a look.

“We know nothing about basketball,” she offers. “You and Sam both seem to play very well.”

“I don’t know what your stance is on women in active combat roles, but I’m hoping you didn’t bring these women,” Sam nods towards the soldier and secret service agents, “along for show.”

Ross takes a calming breath, and she can smell the alcohol on it. He’s not drunk, but hopefully, one of these men or women will be the one driving him rather than him driving himself and any of them.

“People are people. That’s what I told my daughter when she was a little girl. Their actions and occasionally their instincts are the only right things to judge them by and for. No one needs to accuse me of having a personal vendetta against these two monsters. This one held his claws against my neck, and this one kidnapped my pregnant daughter.”

“Someone might need to accuse you of deliberately twisting things,” Pietro quietly says. “Yes, I broke into a secure facility and held you by clawpoint. Maybe that influenced your daughter to go with my sister. But whether she believed me when I said I wouldn’t hurt you or not, she told me to keep my claws there until she came back. Maybe she thought the chance of us being captured would be higher.”

“Or maybe she meant what she said about wanting to make sure we weren’t hurt by you. I don’t have to be a shifter, hear your vitals, to know which one you think is more likely. It’s written clear on your face.”

“Regardless of all this,” Ross persists, “some people will be good no matter what. And some people, if they have abilities regular humans don’t, they will misuse them. I do believe in striking a balance. It’s not discrimination to hold people who’ve proven themselves dangerous to be dangers to society.”

“SHIELD agrees,” Natasha says. “However, in this case, the Maximoffs have been deemed non-dangerous to human society, and you do not have the authority, Mr Secretary, to override our determination and take two citizens into custody.”

“She murdered over a hundred people in Johannesburg. Including women, children, and babies. The elderly. A hospital was part of what was targeted. She never should have been granted any form of sanctuary.”

“My sister-”

She squeezes his hand.

“The decision has been made. You’re free to file an official letter of protest, try to convince your fellow elected officials of your position, or attempt to schedule a meeting with our director, but we will not allow you to illegally detain any individuals. Pietro and Wanda Maximoff have been cleared of any wrongdoing regarding the fight between Hulk and the Abomination.”

Shaking his head, he directs his stare at them. “Someday, things will change. False equivalences won’t be something people like you two and Banner can hide behind.”

She knows it’d be best to stay quiet.

The anger’s too much.

Stepping forward, she directly meets his eyes. “Dr Banner is too fair towards you. He hates you so much, but he still called you a patriot. He said you were a true one. When it came down to it, he fought against a monster you helped create, even knowing it might mean his capture as well.”

“You lied to him, an American civilian, and no one knows whether you intended to only use volunteers or not, but he used himself instead of anyone else, because, he cared about his country and its soldiers. After you lied, you tried to strip away his rights and cage him. Then, after all that, the one person who could help handle the mess you helped make, you almost made it where this city, this state, this country, perhaps, would have no one to stop it. How many lives would have been lost if he hadn’t come?”

“He’s not a soldier. Him being not-human doesn’t bind him to any oath to save innocent lives or defend his country. But you were a soldier, you took an oath to defend this country of yours and its people, and when danger arrived, you put your own feelings above trying to do the best thing to fulfil that duty.”

He steps forward, and she doesn’t care. Let him come.

Sam pulls her back, and Steve moves in front of them. “With all due respect, you have an angry daughter who, hopefully, is going to give birth to your first grandchild soon, Mr Secretary. She can and will leave America if you try to take her to court to get access to her daughter. You’re free to tell me to screw myself, but if you do want to be part of that baby’s life, I’d suggest you work on trying to get your daughter to forgive you enough to willingly let you instead of focusing on these two. If they’re the danger you’re convinced they are, there will be a day we can’t protect them. But that day isn’t today.”

Scoffing, Ross turns heel, and the men and women follow.

Once they’re gone, Clint does a somersault down.

He doesn’t have her brother, and so, she won’t scold him, but what, she wonders, is with men and taking stupid physical risks?

“You good, cap.?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiles warmly at both of them. “Thanks, Nat. Clint.”

“We were just doing our jobs,” Natasha wryly says, but it’s undermined by the small, warm smile she gives him. Turning to them, she continues, “Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“We will,” she promises.

They leave, and she stumbles when she tries to go over to the apartment.

Pietro catches her, and she assures Sam and Steve, “I’m fine. I’m just hungry.”

“Yes, aside from that horrible fake stuff Dr Cho was nice enough to give her, she hasn’t had any blood since before we left.” He picks her up.

…

“Hey. You awake?”

Jumping slightly, she sees Steve has climbed up onto the roof.

“Pietro’s sleeping, but I can’t fall asleep. How’d you know I was up here?”

“You used to come up here all the time.” He sits down. “Rough few days, huh? How are you doing?”

“Do you know Clint and Natasha from your SHIELD days?”

“Not exactly. Neither of them were around when I resigned. Well, I don’t know, Clint might have been an entry-level agent, but there was no Hawkeye around back then. He’s the one who brought Natasha in. Years after she joined, there was a crisis, and she found me and convinced me to temporarily come back.” A smile crosses his face. “I met Sam during that time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

She waves her hands. “For lying. I- don’t know if what Pietro and I did was right, but I made a promise to help keep people safe, and I did that the best way I thought at the time.”

“Well, technically, I can’t think of one time you actually said something untrue. According to Sam, that’s something I do, too. Can I give you some advice?”

She nods.

“You obviously aren’t feeling great. Don’t apologise just to try to make that feeling go away. I know Sam and I worry over you and Pietro to the point, maybe, sometimes, we do forget you’re both adults, but you are. No manipulation: Everyone should do what they think is right.”

He sighs. “Some people are going to be bad no matter what. Some people aren’t so much bad as they just have extremely different ideas of what is right. But there’s a difference between trying to stop them from doing things and- I guess I like to believe, if a person is right, eventually, history will vindicate them. If they aren’t, at least, they can honestly say they acted in good faith and sincere belief. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. It does. It’s not something my mama and papa would have agreed with, but I think I might have always felt that way deep inside.”

“Like you said, you did the best you could at the time. It turns out you were right about Bruce.”

The words help some, but there’s still a tangle of guilt and other emotions.

If she’d trusted Steve and Sam sooner, her brother might have gotten to America sooner. She liked them, she wasn’t afraid they were going to break in and kill her, but she’d simply told them what she told everyone: She had a brother who wasn’t in America.

When they asked further questions, she gave vague answers or changed the subject.

She had a plan for getting Pietro out of the Hydra facility, but America was supposed to be a temporary place where she could regain her full strength, gather some money and supplies, and never come back to.

Then, she’d ended up sleep-flying during a bright, sunny day, and after they’d literally lasso’d her down, they’d dealt with her confused, pained ramblings, got her checked into a hospital, and waited until she was coherent and not in incredible pain to talk to her.

It turned out, 1. She’d gotten a case of blood poisoning from the cup of chicken blood she’d ordered from a restaurant she will never, ever order anything from again, and 2. Steve and Sam had taken her fumbling when they asked if she had a plan for getting Pietro to mean she needed help forming one, and they’d started working with her that very day.

“Ross-” She curls her arms around her legs. “I did slaughter many people in Johannesburg.”

“What’s the story?”


	5. Chapter 5

Making sure his employee ID is pinned on the correct part of his shirt, Pietro goes into the Stark building. “Happy. I brought doughnuts and coffee. Also, do you know any good dry-cleaners? My sister needs something washed.”

Accepting the coffee and doughnuts with a disgruntled look, Happy hands the latter off to a receptionist. “If the machine at your apartment isn’t working, you can go to a laundromat.”

“No, this isn’t hers. It says it’s machine-washable, but considering the dirt and blood, it’d be more right to get it professionally cleaned before we return it.”

“Yeah, there’s a reasonably priced place two miles from here. I’ll send you the directions. For now, though, I don’t know if we have any deliveries you can do today. While you were out, I found a freelancer, and I promised her she could keep the rest of the deliveries she was scheduled for today.”

“I understand. But what if she can’t handle them all?”

Happy lets out a small laugh at this. “She’ll be back soon. It’d be interesting to hear you say that to her face.”

“It’s not a- I know you wouldn’t hire anyone, even temporary, if they weren’t good. I’m just saying, I’ve seen the list of deliveries scheduled.”

“You know, I started out a delivery guy. How I ended up here, I don’t know.”

He hates when Happy goes on diets. “Maybe-”

“Yo, I only broke one window,” a playful voice calls out.

Turning around, he’s struck by the surprising sight of a pretty black woman with shimmering white wings descending down.

“Pietro, this angel-” Happy’s disgruntled look returns. “This is Angel Salvadore. She works at the Ethiopian restaurant around the corner, and she’s been making your deliveries. And she hasn’t broken any windows.”

Winking, Angel offers her hand. “Keep telling yourself that. I’ll bring you some doughnuts when I come back. Hey, good to meet you. You’re Pietro? Sorry, I have sometimes have problems keeping last names straight. What’s yours?”

“Maximoff.” He shakes her hand. “Um, Pietro Maximoff.”

“No doughnuts! Why does everyone try to sabotage my diet?”

“Happy, you only make yourself miserable by going on these crash diets. Do you want a nice hummus and coriander sandwich or some brown bread with organic honey?”

“No!”

“Alright, I’ll get you some crackers from the lounge when I get back. I’m not dealing with you when you’re so cranky. Where’s my package?”

He runs to get the crackers, and coming back, a warm feeling courses through him when she grins.

Scowling, Happy takes them. “You got your car, Angel? You can’t fly through the Stevenson park.”

Raising an eyebrow, she shifts the package. “No. Why not? If those brats-”

“Why does Mister Stark insist I hire people like you two? First of all, you’re never to do something like _that_ again. Second,” Happy grumpily munches, “the park was a casualty of that monster fight. It’s not safe to walk through, and they’ve got drones patrolling it. I doubt you flying through would be accepted, either.”

“Got get those diversity points somehow,” she comments, and her tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent to it that make him feel the sudden urge to defend Happy.

For all Happy can occasionally be pushy and cranky, he’s a good man.

Squeezing Happy’s arm, she continues, “That’s why I like you. Aside from Miss Potts and Stark, you grudgingly tolerate the people you’re forced to with the same amount of irritated suspicion no matter who or what they are.”

“I’m not grumpy. Why does everyone think I’m grumpy?

Her wings start flapping, and raising herself up, she says, “Don’t worry, I’ll get the package delivered on time without getting Stark industries in trouble.”

He starts to follow, but Happy grabs him. “Speaking of that, you need to fill out some paperwork.”

….

When he finally gets through with all the paperwork, Angel’s back, and impressed with her time, he wonders if her mutant abilities give her extra-human strength and speed, or if her strength and speed are from regular training.

“Angel, I need to talk to you privately,” Happy says.

“Are you taking away the rest of my deliveries for him? If so, I’d rather you just say it to both our faces.”

“I-” He starts.

“Nothing personal,” she adds. “I heard your sister was sick, and I’m sure that sucks, but unless she’s literally dying, I probably need the money more than you do.”

“I’m not giving him the deliveries I promised you.”

“Alright.” She gives a small wave.

When she and Happy walk away, he finds himself studying her back. He hadn’t stopped to think, but: Obviously, if clothes are made for people with wings, they probably aren’t sold at any local stores. Angel has clearly cut the holes in her shirt and the tank top underneath on her own.

He knows Wanda wears a tank top (camisole, she calls it) instead of a bra, but this is her choice. He wonders if Angel has such a choice. He’s not really sure how bras even work, and trying to figure out the logistics of someone with wings wearing one causes his mind to go blank.

She glances back at him, and taking his phone out, he sends a text telling Wanda he’s going to stay out for lunch.

There’s no answer, and he hopes this means she’s still sleeping.

Going over to the receptionist desk, he asks, “May I have one of those doughnuts, please?”

“Sure, hun,” Bethie Sue answers. “Hey, did you hear about that vampire going around entrancing the people who didn’t evacuate out of their homes during that monster fight? Shame more vampires can’t be like your sister. I just hope if he or she killed them, they weren’t also turned.”

Taking a doughnut, he makes what he hopes is a polite noise before starting to leave. He doesn’t so much as dislike Bethie Sue as he quickly learned to never have anything beyond surface-level conversations with her. She probably isn’t malicious, but somehow, she almost always ends saying something that irritates or unsettles him.

“Oh, hey, Pietro, wait. Jean from accounting, her grandma died last night. Do you want sign the card Happy brought for her?”

Wishing Happy had mentioned this earlier, he comes back over. “Of course. It- it wasn’t the fight, was it?”

“Oh, no, she’s still down in Pasadena.” She hands him a sparkly gold pen. “Her grandma was just old. I think she might’ve been diabetic. But anyway, they all knew it would be soon.”

Scanning the card, he finds a free space. “Will the funeral and burial be there?”

“The funeral will be. I think they’re doing cremation, though. Jean’s already bought an adorable urn. I just hope she doesn’t bring it here and keep it on her desk, though. It’s only nice to look at if you don’t know there are human ashes inside.”

For once, he finds himself completely agreeing with Bethie Sue.

“Pietro!”

Looking over, he sees Happy following Angel as she clearly struggles with carrying a heavy package.

Coming over, he offers with a flash of his eyes, “I could carry that for you.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Happy hurriedly says.

Letting out an irritated sigh, she nevertheless hands it over with a simple, “Yeah, thanks.”

“Angel’s taking one of the Stark cars.”

“Not one of the self-driving ones,” she says.

“There’s a reason you haven’t been driving on any of your other deliveries.”

“And those reasons are that my car’s a piece of crap and you threw a fit when I brought up seeing if I could borrow my co-worker’s kid’s wagon.”

She’s serious, he can tell, and he realises this is part of what must make Happy like her.

Securing the box, he finds a roll of paper towels and cleaner in the glove box.

“Remember to stay away from Pym Industries,” Happy warns.

“This is part of why Stark industries has such a high turnover rate. As fast as Potts can smooth things over, there your boss goes, making even more enemies, and it isn’t him who has to suffer for it.”

Tossing away the paper towels he used, he points out, “It was Howard Stark, not his son, who made an enemies of the Pyms.”

They all move as one of the trashcans races to catch the last of the paper towels.

“They were at fault,” Happy insists.

“Them, him, it doesn’t matter.” Starting to open the door, she pauses, and then, she gives him a look he’s not sure how to read.

“Yeah, he does stuff like that. Can barely stand to stand still,” Happy says.

“Huh. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he says.

She drives off, and he asks, “What did I do? Stuff like that?”

…

Sam and Steve aren’t around when he gets home.

He finds Wanda levitating over her bed, but reaching into her mind, he’s relieved to see she’s just dreaming of Doctors Banner and Ross rather than having a nightmare.

Once he’s fixed his supper and warmed up her breakfast goat blood, she’s mostly awake.

Handing her the blood and sitting on his bed, he says, “I met an interesting person today. A mutant. She had- I’m not sure what kind of wings, but she had wings out of her back. They were white.”

“Can she fly with them?”

He nods. “She’s an impressive flier. Her name is Angel Salvadore.”

“I wonder if she had the wings when she was born and that’s why she was named that.”

Considering it, he realises he thinks this is unlikely. He could be wrong, but from what little he’s seen of Angel, he doubts she grew up in a loving family. Some of the people they knew in Sokovia had the same hardness he sensed in her.

“We didn’t talk much. Happy sent me to a good dry cleaner, but it’ll be the day after tomorrow before I can pick up the chador.”

“Thank you.” Finishing her blood, she goes to the closet.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back to work?”

“I’m fine. Let’s just hope Fury or anyone else there doesn’t somehow know about what I did. I’d definitely be fired.”

“We helped people.”

“Yes, but I just remembered that one of the things Fury said to me when he hired me was that he’d fire me if he ever found out I’d entranced someone after he hired me. Besides, it was technically illegal. A judge giving us a pass doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

He turns when she gets the clothes out. “If the Grant cook is there, see if you can get me a pepper omelet for breakfast, please.”

Wanda’s judgement on people is usually sound. If she says Garrett is a bad person, he believes her, but he has a hard time seeing it for himself. After what she did, he probably could have gotten Fury to fire her, but it seems he didn’t even try. And when he showed up at the diner with his hurt paw, Garrett had come out and thought he was a stray.

He’d said something about getting some food before seeing the paw, and then, he’d sent Ward out.

“Okay. If not, I’ll stop by that Jewish bakery.”

She walks over, and he turns back around. “Sleep well.” She kisses his forehead.

“Thank you. I will. Have a good shift tonight.”

…

In the morning, he’s surprised to see Angel back.

“Can you cancel the online payment and just give a check or cash, then? I need the money, now, Happy.”

“Are you sure-”

“No, I thought I’d try to scam 600 dollars out of megalomanic Stark and his loyal, a person can’t come in to use the bathroom without a security badge on their chest head of security,” is the quiet but incredibly hard response. “Call my bank, hell, give me a computer, and I’ll log into my account and show you, but I really need that 300 dollars.”

Coming over, he greets, “Hello, again. Anything I can do to help?”

“No. Talk to Bethie Sue about your deliveries today,” Happy answers. “Angel, let’s go to my office-”

“My shift starts in ten minutes.”

Happy sighs. “Angel, I’m really sorry, but this kind of thing takes time to resolve.”

Her wings beat angrily. “Fine. I’ll be back at twelve.”

“I’m sorry, but I have a meeting then.”

She lets out an angry, impolite word, and her wings are even more furious in their movements. “Will you be here at nine?”

“Yes.” A look of concern crosses Happy’s face. “That’s when you get off?”

“No, I get off at eleven, but I can take my break at nine. That’s usually,” she knocks on the wall, “when things are the s-word.”

Turning, she starts to leave, and she flies up slightly when she takes him in. “Seriously, does this boy ever- Never mind. Be here at nine, Happy.” She flies away.

Setting down the crossword he was working on, he asks, “What I’d do this time? And what is the s-word?”

“Slow,” Happy answers. “You never say things are slow when you’re working in a restaurant or when you’re within ten feet of a hospital or emergency room. It’s a guaranteed way to have the place utterly packed. Did you get the delivery list from Bethie Sue?”

He holds it up. “It was on her desk, and she was busy on a phone call, so, I just took it.”

“Better get started.” Happy miserably sighs. “Meanwhile, I need to work on resolving this payment issue.”

He wishes he’d brought doughnuts again.

…

At two, he comes back in from his latest delivery, and despite the yelling Happy’s doing at a robot, Happy seems less stressed.

Seeing he brought cookies, Happy goes for them. “Thankfully, I’ve got things sorted with Angel’s payment. I left her a message.”

“She might not get it,” Bethie Sue pipes up. “I saw her using that old, gross payphone near her restaurant a few days ago, and she said something about how good it was that the monster fight didn’t damage it.”

“Alright, well,” Happy looks at his watch, “I’m due for lunch, anyway. If she’s not there, I’ll leave her a note.”

He’s not sure why, but he finds himself blurting out, “Maybe, you could hire her full-time.”

She doesn’t seem to particularly like him, but she did good with all her deliveries, and even with her irritation, she clearly has some fondness for Happy.

Happy chuckles. “I’ve been pushing for her to apply for several months. I don’t do the hiring, remember? But I offered to put in a good word. She absolutely refuses. Her feelings about Mister Stark-”

Shaking his head, sad resignation enters his eyes. “She only agreed to free-lance this time, because, I won a bet against her, and I think, maybe, she felt a little sorry for how desperate I was.”

“Has she ever- met Mister Stark?” He’s heard a little about how Tony Stark is constantly having sex with different women. According to Steve, Howard Stark was the same way before he got married.

If Stark is honest about his intentions and is only with women who also only want casual sex, he might not exactly understand it, but he doesn’t condemn Stark. If Stark uses manipulation, some type of coercion, or outright force, though-

“No. Tony- Mister Stark made some regrettable comments about mutants when he was younger, he didn’t really mean them, and he’s done a lot of good for mutants since, but Angel is never going to let go of her anger at any non-mutant who ever says anything against mutants. I imagine I’ll end up pissing her off one day.”

…

He’s signing out when Angel comes in. Spotting him, she waves, and he watches in fascination as her wings move slightly, too. “Hey, is Happy around? He left me a note earlier.”

“He’s in his office. Do you know where that is?”

“Yeah, thanks. Hey, it’s your job, I was just filling in, but I saw you planned to get to Pizza’s Palace by cutting through Lincoln’s forest. I know you don’t drive, but how in the hell does that make any sense?” Tilting her head, she looks at him with her right eyebrow arched.

This probably isn’t the time, but he realises: She really is beautiful. It’s a good thing Stark has never met her, for Stark’s stake.

He’s not sure what to do with this thought. Wanda’s beautiful, his mother was beautiful, but- he guesses he doesn’t often truly recognise beauty. Plenty of women working at Stark Industries, he knows they fit the definition of ‘pretty’, ‘beautiful’, and ‘gorgeous’, but he’s never paid much attention to how they look.

Angel is shorter than Wanda but more filled out in the chest and hips, her hair is in two buns on opposite sides of her head, and her skin is rich in its darkness. Today, she’s wearing a uniform, but yesterday, she had on a plain gray t-shirt and blue jeans. The nails on her right hand are painted green except for one that’s painted red, and he wonders if she’s left-handed and has trouble painting with her right-hand.

“Have you ever ran- no, you fly. Have you ever flown through a forest? It’s much easier to cut through than alleys and streets.”

“There are wild animals, trees with sharp branches, and who knows what growing out of the ground. Besides, leaving the city to get to another place in the city makes no sense if you’re looking for speed.”

“That means you’ve never tried it, then,” he says.

A small smile crosses her face, and he wonders what her smile is like when she’s truly happy. As beautiful as this one is, it’s more challenging than anything. “Want to make a bet?”

“What kind of bet?”

“Well, if you’re not doing anything next Saturday, I have some time off. We could meet here. You go through the forest, I go a sensible route in the city, and we see who wins. If I win-” She pauses. “I just got out of a bad relationship, and I’m definitely not looking for anything right now, but I win, you buy me lunch. As long as it’s not McDonalds or the restaurant I work at, you can choose the place.”

“I’m asexual,” he says.

Her smile turns warmer. “Cool. I’m bisexual.”

“Cool,” he echoes. “Um, I can buy you dinner, but also- I know someone who could make you a shirt or dress with proper holes for your wings.”

Her eyebrow arches again. “Yeah, I’m sure this person is talented, but I don’t do home-made clothes. My mom made most of my clothes until I was fourteen, and maybe, I should be grateful, but God, I hated those clothes. I would have given anything for comfortable, non-tacky looking, dollar-store clothes.”

“She made this shirt for me.”

After a moment of looking at it, she shakes her head. “Pull another one.”

Turning around, he says, “Check for tags and writing.”

“It’s not actually illegal to remove tags from something you bought. Besides, a lot of things are tag-free nowadays.”

Still, he feels her hands pulling at his shirt.

“I wouldn’t know, but even shirts without tags have writing on them to tell the size and stuff.”

Walking around, she asks, “Your friend really made that?”

“Yes. My sister, actually. Wanda.”

“What’s she do?”

He isn’t sure how to answer without sounding stupid. He’s never been sure what she and Mama do and did to make clothes. He tried to learn, once, but sewing and everything else involved required too much sitting still.

“She must make good money with a skill like that.”

“Oh, no. She works at a restaurant, too. Fury’s Diner. She cleans and sets up tables and prepares the silverware. It’s just, she and our mother always made clothes and blankets for the family in Sokovia, and here, it’s cheaper, saves on rent, for her to keep doing it.”

“Did your parents come to America with you two?”

The pain hits him harder than he expects. “No. Our parents were killed by Hydra.”

A mixture of sympathy and anger crosses her face. “Oh. I know it’s not much, but: I’m sorry. One of my ex-boyfriends is Jewish, and he lost family in the Holocaust. It seems like neither of them is ever going to die, huh?”

Some part of him relaxes. The unfortunate reality is, everyone he and Wanda meet have the possibility of being Hydra, and it’s never easy to tell at first who can be ruled out.

Angel, her anger and disgust is real. Even more than her dislike for Stark, she utterly condemns Hydra for their role in raising the Nazis to greater powers.

“Maybe, someday. There are still good people fighting against them.”

“Here’s to that. So, if you win, which you won’t, but if you do, what do you want?”

Before he can think of an answer, Happy’s calling, “Hey, Angel!” Coming over, he asks, “You got my note?”

“Yeah, and thanks, Happy. I really appreciate this.” Grabbing a nearby stack of post-its and a pen, she says, “I’m having some issues with my cell phone, but I can still check my email. Send me a message, and we can work out the terms of our bet.”

He takes the post-it. “Okay, I will.”

…

Wanda’s reading a new library book when he gets home.

“I need a favour. I promise I’ll remember to the laundry for, at least, two weeks.”

“You know I-”

“I made a bet with Angel, and she’s going to lose, but I still- I offered to get you to make a shirt or dress with proper holes for her wings.”

“Sit down, and tell me exactly what this bet is about and what the terms are.”

He does.

“Of course, you’re going to win,” she says. “Cutting through forests is the best way to get from one part of a city to another. We need to set up separate emails for both of us. I think we can still keep the one we have right now.”

“What should I ask for when I win?”

A thoughtful frown crosses her face. “I don’t know. Steve and Sam should be back tomorrow or the day after. We can ask them.”

…

“C’mon, Nick, don’t be a Halloween Scrooge.”

Looking up from the silverware she’s rolling, she sees Garrett has come out of the kitchen, and based on Fury’s expression, he clearly wishes Garrett would go back in.

“You give away hot chocolates and pies like they’re going out of style.”

“And you make me cook two or three turkeys and countless sides that we give away every Thanksgiving. We aren’t a soup kitchen, Nick.”

She goes back to rolling the silverware.

“Halloween is the definition of a commercialised holiday. Thanksgiving is a true holiday.”

“Thanksgiving is a crock. Someone shows up on my land, they can leave alive or stay dead. I definitely won’t be sharing my food with them. Things like the Trail of Tears might not have happened if those Indians had let those Pilgrims die of starvation.”

“Native American, Mister Garrett.”

Glancing over, she sees Ace has come in.

“Hey, kiddo.” Garrett kneels down. “Yeah, you’re right. What do you think, Team Halloween or Team Thanksgiving?”

“I like both. I’m gonna be a samurai this year, and since me and Dad don’t like the traditional Thanksgiving foods, I always get my favourite pizza, and he makes steak and a baked potato.”

“Huh. Well, it’d definitely be better for us if we could just do pizza, steaks, and baked potatoes. Turkeys,” Garrett glances up, “cost too damn much.”

“It’s a miracle no kid’s gone into a diabetic coma with how snazzed up you make those hot chocolates.”

“They’re delicious,” Ace declares.

Mike comes out of the bathroom, and she finds herself thinking about Garrett. It’s a shame he’s such a horrible person. When he’s not trying to kill little girls with peanuts, he’s always shown a knack for interacting with kids.

Worse, though she doesn’t know what the Trail of Tears was, she finds herself largely agreeing with his view on Thanksgiving. She’s never understand why Americans celebrate an occasion of peace and unity when, soon after, the people who’d come together were even more bitter enemies than before.

However, last year, she’d had Thanksgiving with Sam and Steve. They’d ordered Chinese food, Sam had brought some kind of pie, Steve had made some sweet potatoes, and they’d gotten a thermos of delicious turkey blood for her.

“You live in a world full of vampires, werewolves, and every other supernatural thing you can think of,” Fury points out.

“Halloween isn’t just about dressing up as monsters. Besides, we didn’t know about the supernatural when we were kids,” Garrett says.

Tuning them out, she finishes rolling the silverware and begins setting the tables.

“Hey, Wanda.” Mike comes over with Ace sitting on his shoulders. “You sure you don’t want some of the chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes for your brother? I’m dropping Ace off at his mama’s, and I still have plenty of hamburger meat for myself.”

“Yes, I’m sure, thank you. Pietro and I are going to our neighbours after I get off tonight. They’re having spaghetti, and there’s always plenty left over for Pietro to have for several days.”

Ace looks at her with a concerned expression. “It doesn’t have garlic, does it?”

“Not cooked in. But don’t worry, garlic only hurts me if it gets onto my skin or I swallow some.”

Nodding, he reaches his hand out, and linking their fingers together, she gently squeezes. “Have a good time at your mother’s.”

“I will. Goodnight, Miss Wanda.”

…

Once they’re settled in at Steve’s table, Pietro says, “I need your advice on something.”

“Which one of us,” Sam asks.

“Either. Both. I made a bet that I’m going to win, but I don’t know what to say I want.”

“And also, he wants me to make this girl some proper clothes, but he’s not sure how to convince her of this.”

Steve and Sam exchange a look.

“Her clothes really aren’t-”

Seeing what misconception Steve has formed, she interrupts, “She has wings. I haven’t seen them, but I could probably make her some tops or dresses that have proper openings for them. Pietro said she clearly cut holes herself for them.”

“Oh, okay.” Steve smiles. “So, you met a girl. Is she pretty?”

A small smile crosses Pietro’s face, and she wishes she could meet the woman who’s responsible for it sooner. “She’s beautiful. Her name is Angel Salvadore, and she doesn’t work at Stark Industries, but she took over my deliveries when I was out.”

“How’d this bet come about,” Sam asks.

After Pietro tells them, Sam says, “Reframe it. If Wanda’s okay with it, tell this Angel girl your sister wants the challenge. That you’ve told her about her.”

“That’d be good. It would be fun figuring out how to make something like that,” she says.

“One thing you might have to worry about is her asking how much the fabric costs,” Steve warns.

“If so, just tell her about the coupons I get from the newspaper.”

She hadn’t known that, like in Sokovia, America offered coupons to people. When she’d first moved into the apartment, she’d never bothered reading the newspaper. She didn’t know if cancelling having it delivered was possible, and so, she’d simply thrown it into the recycling bin. Then, after she’d made Steve the quilt, he’d shown her there are coupons for a local craft store in the paper.

Now, in addition to those, sometimes, she and Pietro will find coupons they can use to buy Pietro certain foods.


	6. Chapter 6

On Saturday, Pietro meets Angel outside of Stark Industries.

Instead of being held in buns, her hair is spread out in a short, fluffy afro with colourful beads, and seeing she’s wearing a gold Star of David with diamonds embedded, he wonders if this is an old or new gift.

“That’s a pretty necklace. A gift from your ex-boyfriend?”

Smiling, she touches it. “Yeah. One of the few times he actually remembered a special occasion.”

“What are you doing after our competition? My sister is off-”

“You really think you’re going to win today, don’t you?”

“I know I am.”

“Well, same here. So, your sis, is she-? And uh, what exactly are you again?”

“I’m a werecoywolf, and Wanda’s a vampire.”

The others warned him, if she didn’t know, she might have a bad reaction to hearing this, and taking in the look on her face, his stomach starts to sink.

“Okay, and now, I’m majorly regretting the ‘literally dying’ comment. Um, what- vampires don’t tend to get sick. Is she okay now? Was- did-”

“It’s fine. No, she’s fine. It’s just, even with the shield, she always stays out of sunlight. When that fight with the abominable one was happening, we got trapped outside for a few hours during the day. She just needed more blood and sleep than normal.”

“Oh, good. So, uh, is adoption in play?”

“No.” He explains what happened.

“She’s lucky to have a brother like you. And I’m sure she’s cool, but you’d better find someone else to be her guinea pig, because, I’m not losing.”

He’s probably going to feel a little bad when she does.

Taking out his phone, he asks, “Ready to start?”

“Yep.” She takes hers out. “GPS set. My phone’ll ping once you get to the forest, you talk to Marcie from the lunch room to confirm that I haven’t gotten a head start, and then, we’ll both set off.”

He offers his hand. “Good luck.”

She shakes it. “You, too.”

…

He dodges the shoe she throws at him.

“Sorry,” he offers.

“No. I’m not accepting this. We’re going back to Stark Inc., and you’re going to be Marcie’s new helper until I get to the forest. And then, I will prove, a normal person can’t get to a pizza place by cutting through a forest in such fast time.”

“I’m a werecoywolf, and you’re a mutant with flying wings.”

“Doesn’t matter. Cutting through a forest makes no damn sense.”

“It does if you lived in Sokovia. Do you want to get something to eat before-”

“No, I had something before I met you.”

…

“Okay, obviously, you cheated. I have no idea how, but when I find out, you will be sorry.”

He’s not sure her being tired and hungry might not have something to do with it. For all she’s strong, she’s clearly human strong rather than having any preternatural boost.

“When’s a good time for me to meet your sister?”

“If today’s good with you, it’s good with us. She doesn’t work tonight.”

“Let’s go.”

“I could still buy you-”

“If you want to get lunch, we can find a place, but I have this hard rule about men buying me food: Only if it’s a date, I won a bet, or I did him a major favour.”

“What about family and friends?”

She scoffs. “With male friends, that rule’s in place to try to make sure things don’t get complicated. As for family- my biological mother’s still alive. So, unfortunately, is my stepdad. Hopefully, I die before them, because, there’s no way in hell I’m going back for any funerals, and I’m definitely not paying a cent towards funeral or burial costs. That makes me the biggest bitch around? Fine by me. I don’t have any family.”

His parents were so good, he knows he and Wanda would have turned out to be wonderful people if not for everything that happened. It always surprises him when people from bad homes become good people, and he wonders how horrible Angel’s family must have been to make her feel these things.

He’s glad she’s managed to get away.

…

“Besides green and yellows, are there any other colours you really like?”

Flying beside him, she shrugs. “Like I said, black and navy go with anything and are appropriate for any occasion.”

This is probably true, but he has a suspicion black and navy fabric might be cheaper, as well.

“Where do you come from?”

A look crosses her face, but it’s quickly gone. “Right, you have an accent yourself. Most people, they hear me speak, and they automatically know I’m an Alabama girl. That or assume I’m from Mississippi. Been gone since I was fifteen or sixteen, but Southern accents tend to stick hard.”

He doesn’t know if it’d be good or not to tell her how nice he finds her accent. It’s warm, soft, and a little bit fun.

“Have you ever been to Mississippi?”

“Once. All the people who get offended about the comparisons between the two, I’m not sure how to tell them, but unless the rest of it is vastly different from the part I was in, I might as well of still been in good ole Alabama.”

They get to the apartment building, and he points out his. “That’s mine.”

Before they can get to it, however, Sam comes out of Steve’s with his hands full. “Oh, hey, Pietro. I was just about to text Wanda. Do me a favour and take this to my car, and I’ll get the stuff Steve made for y’all.”

Sam pauses when he sees Angel.

“I’ll help, too,” she says. “Hi, Angel Salvadore.”

Handing the food over, Sam shakes her hand. “Hey, good to meet you. I’m Sam Wilson, a friend of Pietro’s neighbour, Steve Rogers. Alabama or Mississippi?”

“Alabama. Family from there?”

Finishing loading the food, he comes back.

“Yeah, my grandma was a Mississippi girl, and her first fiancé, who ended up marrying one of my great-cousins, was from Alabama.”

“That sounds about right.” Looking over, she jumps. “Seriously? Are you sure you’re a werecoywolf? I knew a boy who could literally teleport, and he wasn’t as fast as you.”

Unable to help it, he grins.

Sam laughs. “The rest is on Steve’s counter. Vegetarian spaghetti, container of meatballs, and hash brown and rice casserole.”

He goes to get it.

“It’s been nice meeting you. Steve and I usually have Pietro and his sister over for dinner every few nights. Maybe, you can join sometime soon.”

Taking the casserole dish from him, she gives Sam a polite nod.

He doesn’t think she dislikes Sam, but he has the feeling she has no plans to accept such an invitation.

“Sam can fly, too. He has metal wings.”

The way her face lights up makes him feel- odd. It’s beautiful, but at the same time, Sam might be in a romantic relationship with Steve, and even if he’s not-

To make it worse, he doesn’t understand half the words she’s using, though, he understands enough to realise she thinks Sam is a mutant, is worried his metal wings might be causing him pain, and knows someone she thinks might be able to help.

Before he can say anything, Sam shakes his head. “Uh, there’s been a misunderstanding. Not a mutant. I’m human. What Pietro means is I was military, and I had specialised wings I used to fly with.”

“Oh.” Angel’s face goes from excited and concerned to polite. “That’s cool. Maybe we can still see how metal does against organic one of these days.”

Sam clasps his shoulder. “See you and Wanda later. Tell her I said hi.”

“I will. Thanks, Sam.”

He leaves, and they go inside. The bedroom door is closed, and he can feel Wanda is waking herself up with some blood.

“That was a lot of food,” Angel comments.

“Steve and Sam donate and volunteer at a homeless shelter. Oh, uh, are you Jewish, too? Steve, he also helped do repairs to a nearby synagogue when it caught on fire, and he has a rabbi friend he likes to play cards with. You might have already met him.”

“No. If I have met him, it’s probably not through anything Jewish-related. I’m- there’s probably a word for me, but I don’t know what it is. Some of my family was quick to call themselves Christians, but I’ve never really bought the story of Jesus. Big Bang, whatever started the universe, I believe that something was behind it. But a God that answers prayers and cares about all of his, hers, its creations, I don’t believe in that.”

…

Hearing Pietro and his new friend talking, Wanda finishes her blood.

Please, help me do this right, she prays.

In Sokovia, she and Pietro played with other children, and there were a few they were truly friendly with, but neither of them ever had any close friends.

Coming out, she sees Pietro is holding out a plate of spaghetti. “Come on. I didn’t buy it. You’re a guest.”

“Hi,” the woman says. “Wanda? I’m Angel Salvadore.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” They shake hands. “Please, help yourself to whatever food we have. I don’t eat, and it would take several days for Pietro to finish all of it by himself.”

Noticing a pretty Star of David necklace, she starts to add Steve and Sam are careful to make sure almost everything they make is Kosher, but catching her eye, Pietro shakes his head.

Angel tentatively takes the plate. “Thanks.”

Trying not to stare, she takes in the wings. They largely resemble fly wings, though, they’re much nicer and a little more opaque.

She’s read a little about mutations that cause wings, and though she doubts she’ll ever understand the science behind it, she has learned people with wings often have back and shoulder complications, and worse, women often have pain in their chest. She’s read about some of the ways to alleviate these problems, but she’s not sure it would be appropriate to bring up the subject right now.

“It’s nice of you to let me practise my sewing on you. Aside from my own clothes and Pietro’s, I don’t sew very often.”

“No problem. You’re talented.”

“We have magazines.” Pietro starts piling them near Angel, and she has to repress a laugh at the puppy dog feelings radiating from him.

“Yes. I don’t know much about current fashions, but if you can give me an idea of what you want, I’ll likely be able to make it.”

“What kind of things did you wear in Sokovia?”

“Nothing fashionable. I-”

“Your clothes have always been nice. Mama and Papa said so many times.”

She’s fairly sure they were just being supportive parents, but it’d probably be best to change the subject before they manage to scare this girl away.

“I developed my own style when I was young, and it never fit with what others wore. Do you want a dress or shirt?”

Angel points to a plain yellow t-shirt. “Something like this would be good.”

“I don’t have the material for zippers, but if you want pockets, I could also do buttons.”

Angel’s eyes light up. “You can do pockets?”

“Yes. One thing I’ve never understood about America is how women’s clothes have so few pockets. Perhaps, it’s because purses and wallets weren’t very common in Sokovia, but all fashions included plenty of pockets. I make pockets for all my shirts, skirts, and leggings.”

“She makes them for mine, too,” Pietro says. “See?”

He shows her the pockets on his shirt, and Angel stares. “Wow. I didn’t even notice those. That shirt you were wearing last time, did it have them?”

“Yes. Here, I’ll go it.”

As he’s showing it to her, Angel says, “I wish America would take a cue from Sokovia in that department. For years, women have been making it clear they’d kill to have more pockets, but there aren’t that many options. I always buy men’s jeans in small sizes so that I can have some decent ones.”

“What about skirts,” Pietro asks.

Angel shrugs. “I never really had the option of wearing skirts when I was little. I liked playing sports, and my mom refused to let me wear skirts when I did. And now, with me flying high enough that people could see- Some people can pull off the skirts with leggings or tights look, but I’ve never been one of them.”

She imagines Angel is right. They had a classmate in Sokovia who was rather short, and during the winter, she often wore pants even when the other girls wore leggings or warm tights under their dresses. The few times she didn’t, it wasn’t a flattering look.

Though, she thinks Angel might look good in striped clothes.

…

After Angel finishes her plate and goes to the bathroom, they leave Pietro watching TV on the couch.

She’s afraid there will be an awkward silence, but when she starts measuring, Angel asks, “So, do you and Pietro still have anyone in Sokovia?”

“No. Our parents were all we really had. Twins are rare in Sokovia, and most of the time, they’re not boy-girl. We weren’t bullied, but we never made any lasting connections to our classmates.”

Their mother was an immigrant, too, though, it was a conversion to Christianity and marriage to their father rather than being targeted by Hydra that brought her to her new homeland. Their father, he was the only survivor of a vampire nest that attacked his family.

Growing up, she was closer to him than Pietro was, but in her deepest thoughts, the ones she desperately hopes Pietro never stumbles across, sometimes, she wonders if he would have cast her out if not for knowing Pietro would go with her. He always worried about Pietro being a werecoywolf, and she honestly doesn’t remember if he was closer to Pietro before the bite or not, but a child of the moon was acceptable, if not preferable.

A vampire, though- He always hated them. He tried to kill the one Pietro brought that day.

Yet, he couldn’t lose his only son. Another pregnancy might have not even been possible, or it might have been too dangerous.

“What did they do? Or do you want me to change the subject?”

“No, that’s fine. Before things got bad, Mama was something close to a local seamstress. Neighbours would bring clothes or quilts that needed fixing, or they’d pay her to make outfits for their children or special occasions. She was very talented at making wedding gowns. Otherwise, she was close to a home-wife. She took care of Pietro and I and Papa.”

“He was a labourer. He used to work the fields of country families in exchange for food and some money. He’d help build or repair houses and other buildings. Later- we didn’t have trucks like they have here in America, but he’d transport things for many miles in cars.”

She’s glad Sam is still teaching Pietro how to drive. Their father used to talk about teaching them both someday, but whereas Pietro was excited, she was more like her mother and uneasy about cars. They didn’t make her truly carsick, but she never liked riding in them.

“Is it okay if I measure your wings?”

Nodding, Angel answers, “Yeah.” Turning around, she takes her shirt and camisole off.

Taking her rings off, she does, and uneasiness quickly comes. The wings feel thinner than paper against her hand, and she’s afraid a wrong move will have them tearing.

“Don’t worry. They’re sturdier and more durable than they seem.”

There are thin, almost invisible lines on the wings, and when she brushes against one, Angel jumps.

She quickly moves back. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Angel looks back. “I’m sorry. They’re veins. Sensitive to touch, but I didn’t realise they’d gotten this sensitive. It’s been awhile.”

Coming back over, she’s careful to avoid them.

“What about you and Pietro? Do you have a boyfriend? Did either of you have someone in Sokovia?”

“No. Dating in Sokovia was a little different than it is in America, and we’re still trying to settle into everything else. What about you?”

“I’m kind of in the same boat. I used to have a habit of getting into bad relationships. So, now, I’m living by a new rule: No more dating until I reach certain goals and milestones.”

She finishes measuring. “It shouldn’t take too long to make a shirt. I’ll have extra fabric. Would you like a bra or camisole, too?”

…

“Now, you’re the one cheating,” he declares.

Laughing, Angel shakes her head. “Law & Order was around before I was born, and people who didn’t get more than three TV stations, I guarantee one of those three would have episodes popping up every few nights. I just know the formula.”

“But there are different shows. This one just came out last year.”

“You watch enough, and you’ll see that none of the series change the basic formula when it comes to certain things.”

“Wanda, sister, agree with me she must be cheating.”

Rolling her eyes, Wanda continues her sewing. “After Madison’s death, he’s gotten insistent on trying to figure out any twists before they happen.”

“Yeah,” Angel nudges him with her foot, “that might’ve been a bad move on her actress’s part. According to one of my regulars, that new show she signed up for is crap. Most actors who make it for three years but less than seven on Law & Order have great careers. Of course, that new executive director hates vampires. Unless she does a tell-all, it’ll probably never come out how big of a role he played in her leaving, but I have my suspicions.”

Looking up, he asks, “You know about the executive director?”

The words didn’t exactly come out how he meant them. He knows TV directors are people who do something involving TV and movies, though, what exactly they do, he’s not sure. He knows executive positions are higher than regular positions.

How she knows anything about who the executive director is and what his feelings are, however, confuses him.

“Yeah, it’s on IMDb.”

“Where,” Wanda asks. “And is it safe to look at? Our computer’s safe search doesn’t work often.”

He winces at the memory of when they wanted to look up candle making. If he weren’t already asexual, finding out what some people do with wax might well make him that way.

Angel chuckles. “Sure. If you want, I could show y’all.”

Pausing the TV, he gets their laptop.

“Oh, you already have it bookmarked. Okay, if you want to know about producers, directors, and stuff, you click here.”

“Did a vampire murder his family,” Wanda asks.

Based on the way Angel laughs, he guesses Wanda didn’t tell her about their father’s family. “No. He’s just an all-around jackass. This girl I went to school with had her heart set on being an actress, and she was always reading the latest celebrity news. His name had a tendency to pop up. But men like that will never be brought down.”

He hopes they will, but he knows Wanda largely believes the same.

“Did your friend become an actress?”

“She wasn’t a friend. Just someone I went to school with. And if she did, I haven’t seen her in anything. Speaking of friends, though, do y’all have VBG for your anti-virus? A friend of mine had that, and her safe search was always turning itself _on_. We read some reviews, and it turns out, VBG just randomly messes with the safe search on a lot of computers.”

“Yes, we do,” Wanda answers. “Does this mean, if we cancel our subscription, it’ll stop turning it off? We don’t like porn.”

“We don’t mind if other people do,” he adds. “But we just want to watch candle making videos and read about bisexuality without it popping up.”

“Unless there’s something else going on, that should work. Want me to show you a site that compares different anti-virus programs?”

“That would be nice,” Wanda says. “If you don’t mind, could you also look over the options with Pietro?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Sitting back down, Wanda restarts her sewing.

“First off,” Angel points to the screen, “absolutely no to this one. One of my schools had it, and...”

…

After Wanda finishes the clothes, she and Angel go back into the room.

“Wow, these are amazing,” Angel says. Floating over to the mirror, she examines them. “To be completely honest, I’m pretty sure your brother did cheat. But I’m kind of glad he won. It’s been a long time since I’ve had clothes these nice.”

She manages not to laugh. “Pietro didn’t cheat. Um, are you doing anything for Halloween? I mean, a costume? At the diner I work at, most of the people are dressing up, and Pietro said they might at Stark Industries, too.”

“No. My restaurant doesn’t do that.” Angel turns around. “If y’all wanted, though, I might be able to help with any makeup or nails. At one point, I was studying to be a manicurist. I decided that kind of job wasn’t for me, but I got pretty good at it.” She holds her hands up, and her nails are neat, pretty, and healthy-looking.

“They’re nice. Is it a new fashion to only do one hand?”

“No. Uh, I’m left-handed.” Angel flexes her painted right fingers. “I can write with my right hand, but I’ve never learned to paint with it. Don’t care to, either.”

Pietro’s been talking about Angel since he first met her, and he’d mentioned he thought she might be left-handed.

She knows how her brother thinks, and the fact he didn’t share his (correct) reasoning for this means something. He’ll probably never have a wife and children, but they could both use some more friends.

“We’d love some help with our costumes,” she says. “Starting with some suggestions on what costumes might be good. We didn’t have Halloween in Sokovia.”

Last year, Sam had put a witch’s hat on her and set up a broom near her when she’d helped him and Steve hand out candy, but more than one child had made it clear they didn’t buy his efforts. A few had politely asked why she wasn’t wearing a real costume, and some were so rude she objected to the fact they got any candy.

…

After Angel leaves, they settle on his bed to test out the new anti-virus.

“She’s not Jewish.”

Wanda frowns.

He knows she has strong opinions on non-Christians who wear crosses, and it’s not surprising this extends to other religions, but-

“Well, she seems nice anyways.”

“One of her ex-boyfriends was Jewish, and he gave it to her. From the little she’s said, I don’t think he was a very good boyfriend, but I- it feels like she might still love him in some way.”

Considering this, she brightens. “That’s much better than her wearing it just to be fashionable.”

“She knows I’m asexual. I think that made her- maybe not like me more, but trust me a little.”

“That makes sense,” she says. “When I realised Sam and Steve might be together, I felt easier around them. Then, when I find out they do both like women, even if they’re together, it was still clear they didn’t have that sort of interest in me.”

“You know, you can still find someone to love and marry.” Quietly, he adds, “I’m sorry about you not being able to have children.”

She wraps an arm around him. “I’m glad I’m alive. I wanted children, but the honest truth is, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have decided against having them if given the choice.”

He knows she’s thinking about the other time he took away her choice. Perhaps, he should say something, but what’d be the point? He’ll never apologise for it, and she’ll never truly understand how it was the right thing to do even with the all the bad that came from it.

“Oh, look, the filters are still on,” she says.

Trying not to shudder at the thought, he suggests, “Let’s see what comes on if we search ‘wax’.”

…

On Halloween, Mike does a double-take when she walks in, and coming over, he says, “Whoa, Wanda. Awesome costume.”

“Thank you. You’re Sherlock Holmes?”

He beams. “Yeah. And you’re the first person who’s guessed that the first time around.”

She almost asks how this can be (she knows the movies of the famous detective are extremely popular, especially since the newest actor looks a lot like Tony Stark), but then, she realises it’s likely due to him being black.

Before she can decide if she should say anything, Fury comes over. “Mike, I need-” He pauses. “Maximoff?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I’m a little late. Those drones-”

Waving her words away, he declares, “We need pictures,” and heads over to the kitchen. “Hey, John, bring the camera!”

Pirate Garrett (the same costume he wore last year) appears with it hand. “Is little Ace here? I’m almost done-”

“No, not yet.”

She wonders if this was a bad idea. Fury’s office is filled with pictures of his employees and their friends and families, but aside from one picture from Mike’s birthday, none of them contain her.

They come over, and Garrett studies her. “Who- Wanda Maximoff?”

“I don’t look that different.”

Shooting them both an annoyed look, Fury insists, “Pictures!”

He takes pictures of her, of Mike, of them together, and he tries to take one of all three of them, but thankfully, Grant comes over. Taking her in, a soft smile crosses his face, and she realises it’s not common to see him smiling.

“Wonder Woman. Is she someone you admire?”

“More than that. My mother’s family was Roma, and during one of the wars, she saved my grandfather’s grandfather from some invading Germans. I don’t remember which. The Germans have always hated my mother’s family.”

“You weren’t up for dressing up,” Mike asks Grant.

“I’ve never been big on Halloween.”

Garrett frowns, and then, rambling about some new confection, he drags Grant back to the kitchen.

After Fury gets his fill of pictures, they all get to work, and she soon understands Fury’s side of his increasing arguments with Garrett.

Little kids are everywhere, and in addition to plying the already loud, jumping ones with even more sugar, he or Grant is constantly sending the parents away before anyone can get payment.

When Fury stomps over with his eye bulging, she’s truly concerned he might burst a blood vessel soon.

“Maximoff, take a break. Cassie’s come in.”

Before she can respond, he’s calling, “Mike, take your break! Grant is covering you while I take the register!”

Grant doesn’t look happy, and she’s almost tempted to ask if he cares that what Garrett wants is explicitly losing the diner tons of money.

At least, Garrett seems to be refraining from poisoning any children, though, she’s still trying to keep her ears open for special orders he might decide to disregard.

She and Mike sit down together, and she feels a sense of pity when he exhales and lifts his feet off the ground.

“Hey, uh, Wanda, do you mind if I ask how you put your costume together? One of my neighbours is Muslim, and now that her girls are getting older and starting to move away from wanting to be animals, she’s worried about what she’s going to do about costumes for them.”

“Of course.” Digging out the sketches Steve drew, she sets them down. “You could make copies of these, but I’d like the originals back. Does she use the internet? There’s a blog: Ghiassy’s Hijabi Modifications.”

“My neighbour, Steve, based the idea,” she gestures to her outfit, “off of one of the designs there. It gives a lot of advice on clothing for Muslim women, and one of the sections is about making common costumes for little girls and teenagers pretty and mostly realistic without the element of sexualisation many people feel are usually present.”

Getting his phone out, he types in the name. “If it’s okay with you, I could just take some pictures of the sketches.”


End file.
